Second Chances
by MacsLady
Summary: Back at work after being shot, Mac loses another old friend, and finds himself with guardianship of the man's ten-year-old daughter. Still struggling with the after-effects of what happened, Mac now has to battle doubts about his ability of be a father figure. Can he overcome his fears? Christine, Jo & the team are there to help. Disclaimer: All NY characters belong to the writers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Mac rested his head in his hands. It was 9pm. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. While part of him had been glad to finally return to full duties after he was shot, part of him was reeling at just how wearying that return had been. The mounds of paperwork. The endless interviews with devastated friends and family of victims, and interrogations with suspects who ran the gamut from mind-numbingly stupid, through greedy and selfish, through devastated by what they'd done, all the way to the exact opposite - the ones who enjoyed their crimes, or saw it as some kind of rightful and justified vengeance upon those who had 'wronged' them. Then there had been Curtis' sudden, brutal, unexpected death. As he'd stood at the graveside of yet another friend, Mac wondered how many more people he cared about he'd have to bury. Hadn't there been enough already? He'd also been unable to get away from the thought of how just eight months ago, it could have been *him* in Curtis's place. The thought sent a cold thrill of fear down his spine even now.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door.

He looked up and gestured Jo in.

'Mac, I know you were just about to head home, but we just got a call out. Head on collision at a junction. Both drivers dead at the scene.'

Mac sighed. His head throbbed and his entire torso seemed to ache. He winced as he rose from his chair, clipped his holster on to his belt, and slipped on his jacket.

'Pain meds, Mac.' Jo said.

'I took some already,'

'Yeah, when?'

He sighed.

'I dunno...lunch time?'

'Take some now. I know you hate them, but the doctors gave you them for a reason, Mac.'

Mac sighed and rolled his eyes, but obediently took the pill bottle from his jacket pocket and took two pills with a gulp of lukewarm water from the bottle on his desk.

'Happy, now? How your kids get away with *anything* under that eagle eye of yours I don't know.'

Jo smiled.

'They don't, Mac. That's the point.'

Mac chuckled, and followed Jo out of the office.

'Don's already at the scene,' Jo said.

Mac nodded.

They stepped into the elevator and Jo hit the button for the parking lot.

'Mac, how are you doing, really?' she asked.

He shrugged.

'Better some days than others. The pain is bad, but not as bad as it was.'

'It's just that Adam mentioned to me that you were in the lab with him yesterday, and that you...seemed to have some...difficulty remembering the word 'GCMS'.'

'It's a long word, Jo,' Mac attempted to joke, feeling fear engulf him._ Adam had noticed that? Adam himself might not make much of it, but Jo?_

'You know what is though, Mac. Adam said you basically described what it does perfectly, using all the right words, but you couldn't put a name to the machine itself. Are you...are you having some kind of memory issue, Mac?'

Jo's eyes met his, and she studied him closely, with evident concern.

The elevator doors dinged.

'Jo, look, we have a crime scene to go to. I can't talk about this now. I'm fine, okay, my memory's fine.'

Jo looked at him, her concern deepening.

'Okay, Mac,' she said gently, but with steel in her voice, 'We'll talk about this later.'

'Sure,' he said.

Mac stepped out of the car. He felt the cold wind bite at his neck, and shivered slightly.

He walked with Jo to the scene of the accident. A decrepit looking blue Ford van was smashed into the driver's side of a black pick-up truck. Don met them at the perimeter of the the scene, and lifted the crime-scene tape for them to step underneath.

Whatever emergency vehicles had responded to the accident had left, leaving only a couple of cop cars and Don's own vehicle, and along with a few uniforms, they were the only people on the scene, except for gawking passers-by. It was Friday night, but this was a quiet area of Brooklyn, largely residential with a few areas of small businesses like this one, usually pretty quiet. Quiet, and supposedly relatively safe, by New York standards.

'What have we got?' Mac asked.

'Collision of two vehicles. Witness over there,' Don pointed to a man talking to a uniform cop, 'Owns the store on the corner. He came outside for a smoke, and said he saw the van came tearing down the street and run the red light, and smash right into the guy in the pick up truck. Responding paramedics said both drivers suffered massive head and upper body trauma and died practically instantly.'

'Do we have IDs on them?' Mac asked.

'Yep. Guy in the blue van is Wesley Roberts, aged 32. The guy in the pick up is...'

Don turned to the next page in his notebook. 'Ah, here we go. Brody. Sam Brody, of Brooklyn. DOB 20/11/1960.'

Mac's heart froze in his chest. _It had to be another Sam Brody. Yeah, right. Another Sam Brody who lived in Brooklyn, was born on the 20th November._

Mac walked to the cars, every step seeming to take forever. He was oblivious to Jo and Don right behind him, his mind kept repeating the same desperate, pleading, mantra -

_No, no, no, please no. Not again._

He leaned into the passenger side window of the pick up truck. He felt nausea rise in him at the sight of the body of the driver. He had suffered such severe trauma that without the driver's license, the man would have been impossible to identify, and they'd have to run fingerprint and possible DNA checks to be absolutely sure. But Mac didn't need tests. He pulled his head out of the window and turned to Don who, along with Jo, was watching him with a concerned expression.

'Do you have his wallet?'

'Sure,' Don said, and handed Mac an evidence bag containing a battered old leather wallet. Mac carefully removed it, and opened it. Inside, along with various cards and Brody's license was cash and, in a clear plastic wallet, a photograph. Mac glanced at the license, which, although it confirmed his fears pretty much finally, was not what he was looking for. Instead he looked at the family snapshot in the clear plastic sleeve. It showed the driver of the car, smiling, one arm around a pretty redheaded woman, and the other around a girl who looked to be around six years old, with black hair, huge green eyes, and a cheeky grin. The girl was clutching a packet of Reese's Peanut Butter cups in one hand, her other arm hidden behind her dad's waist.

'Ella,' Mac said, his voice coming out low and strangled with despair.

He closed his eyes as the world seemed to lurch. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to hit something. He wanted this all to be some kind of horrible mistake. But as if the driver's license wasn't confirmation enough, the photograph certainly was.

'Goddammit,' he hissed through clenched teeth.

'Mac?' Jo asked, 'Mac, what is it?'

'I know him,' Mac grated out, 'His name is Sam Brody, and he's a professor in American History at Chelsea University. He was a Marine before that. He and I served together, we were both made Lieutenant at about the same time, although he came up from the enlisted ranks. He stayed after I left, and made Lt. Colonel. Then five years ago, his wife, Diane, died. He left the Marines and moved here, to Brooklyn, with their adopted daughter, Ella. He took the job teaching at Chelsea. Ella's only 10 years old, Jo, nearly 11 now. I...I just saw them a few months ago...they came to visit me in the hospital. Sam...Sam teased me about Christine, and Ella ...she gave me this huge get well soon card. He can't be...I can't believe he's dead.'

'Oh, Mac, I'm so sorry,' Jo said.

Mac nodded, numbly. Emotions roared in him - anger, grief, and concern for Ella. How was he supposed to tell a ten-year-old kid that once again the only family she'd ever known had been ripped apart?

'Mac, Don and I can handle this if you want,' Jo said. 'I'll do the inform for the daughter, you don't have to...'

'No,' Mac grated out, trying to force down his roiling emotions, get a grip on himself. 'No. I'm her godfather. I know her. I care about her, and I need to be the one who tells her.I owe it to Sam. They only live a few blocks from here.'

Jo met his eyes, and nodded in understanding.

'Okay, Mac. You go with Don and do that. I'll get Adam and Danny out here to help process the scene. Sad as it is, I think this is pretty much an open-and-shut case.'

Mac nodded. It was. But not for him. Not for Ella, either.

'You ready?' Don said, his voice quiet and sad. 'Let's get this over with.'

Mac nodded. As they walked towards Don's car, Mac said,

'You don't have to...'

'I'm not letting you do this alone.' Don said, simply.

'Thanks, Don.' Mac said as they got into the car.

Don nodded. As they drove, Don said,

'So, you're close to the Brodys?'

'Yeah. Brody was home on leave when 9/11 happened, and before he and his unit were deployed, he came here and spent a lot of time with me. Helped me get through the worst time in my life. When they adopted Ella in 2002, they made me her godfather. They always invited me for Thanksgiving and Christmas, I even went a few times. I went to some of Ella's birthday parties too, and if I couldn't make it, I'd send gifts. I went to Diane's funeral five years ago. Sam and Ella moved to the city after that. They came to the opening of the first responders' memorial I helped with. The last time I saw them was when they visited me in hospital after...you know. We'd planned to meet up for dinner at Christine's restaurant when I got back on my feet and Sam and I were both free.'

'I'm sorry, Mac.' Don said, his voice quiet and full of genuine sympathy.

Mac just nodded.

'How the hell am I going to tell Ella that her father is dead, Don?' he asked, an angry hopelessness washing over him.

Don shook his head, wordlessly.

Mac leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes against the pain and anger and utter exhaustion that suddenly overwhelmed him, even worse than earlier that evening. He was dreading what he was about to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two.**

**Disclaimer:  Uglydolls belong to their creators.**

Flack pulled the car up to the curb.

Mac looked out at the familiar house. The last time he'd come here had been a couple of years ago, when he'd managed to get away from work and attend Ella's 9th birthday party. He smiled at the memory. Sam had manned the barbecue, while a seemingly uncountable number of small girls, all as tomboy-ish and energetic as Ella, had run around. No princess parties for this lot, they'd played games of soccer and basketball and then a game called 'Zombie War' which seemed to involve half the girls stumbling around making horrendous groaning sounds while the other half, led by Ella, had 'attacked' them with water balloons while uttering war cries of 'die, zombies, die!'

He remembered the way Ella's face had lit up when he'd given her an Uglydoll - a strange three-eyed pink creature named Peaco. Never one for princess or baby dolls, Ella loved the ugly-yet-cute soft toys, and had quite a collection.

The smile faded from Mac's face as he took in the peaceful little two-storey house. Somewhere inside, Ella would be waiting with whatever neighbor Sam had found to sit for her, waiting for her dad to come home.

'Mac?' Don asked, gently.

'Let's get this over with,' Mac said.

They got out of the car, and walked up to the front door. Mac knocked. Moments later, it swung open, and Ella's beaming face looked up at him.

'Mac!' she said, and hugged him. Mac instinctively wrapped his arms around her, and dropped down to her level. He felt sick at what he was about to have to do.

'My dad's not here, he went to get some groceries. I'm s'posed to be in bed, but Mrs Adams said I could stay up and wait for him so he can read me the next chapter in this book we're reading, it's...wait.'

Ella pulled back and her big green eyes studied Mac's face, curiously.

'Why do you look so sad? And why is he here? Is he a cop too?' Ella indicated Flack, but her eyes were on Mac's face, searching for an answer.

'I...' Mac's throat closed up, and tears stung the back of his eyes. 'Ella, sweetheart, I...I have some...very...bad news to tell you.'

Her face crinkled into a worried frown.

'Bad news about my dad?'

'Yes, Ella.'

'Did he get in an accident? Is he gonna be okay? Where is he, where's my daddy? Mac, where is he?'

Mac looked down as hot tears fell from his eyes. He hated this, hated the brutal unfairness of it all. He'd suffered far more than his share of loss, but for a ten-year-old girl to lose both parents in the space of five years...

'I think we need to go inside, honey,' he choked out.

He stood, taking Ella's hand and leading her inside, past a concerned-looking woman in her early 60s, who he took to be Mrs Adams, presumably a neighbor who had come over to watch Ella.

As Don beckoned the woman into the kitchen, Mac led Ella into the living room and sat with her on the couch.

He closed his eyes, took a breath, cleared the lump in his throat, then opened his eyes and looked right into Ella's.

'Ella, your dad was in a very serious car accident,'

'Is he coming home? Is he in the hospital? Are the doctors gonna fix him?'

Mac swallowed.

'I...do you remember when you were little, and your Mom got really sick, and in the end, the doctors couldn't make her better?'

'Yes, daddy said sometimes people get so sick that even though the doctors do their best, they can't fix the person and so then the person dies, like Mom did. But it's no one's fault, it's just the world being crappy.'

'Right,' Mac said,'Well, your daddy was hurt really, really bad in the accident, and so the paramedics couldn't save him.'

'You mean he's...dead?'

'Yes, Ella. I'm so sorry.'

'No! He can't be dead. He just went to the store. No one is supposed to die when they just go to the store! Maybe the paramedics made a mistake...'

'No, Ella. I'm sorry, but he's...' Mac couldn't bring himself to say the word 'dead' again.

'He's...really gone? He's never ever coming back?' Ella whispered, tears leaking down her face.

Mac just nodded, unable to speak.

'But I don't WANT him to be gone! I want him here! Why can't he be here? Why? I want my daddy, Mac! Mac, can't you _fix_ it?'

Mac dropped his head down, and squeezed his eyes tight shut as he pulled Ella to him in an embrace. She clung to him, small hands clenched into fists lightly beating at his chest as she repeated, 'I want him back' over and over. Mac felt utterly powerless. There was no way to make this right. He felt helpless rage rise in him, against the driver of the other car, against himself and his own inadequacy in the face of Ella's grief, against a world that would leave a kid parentless for the second time in her life.

'Ella, I'm so sorry, but I can't fix it. I would do *anything* to fix it, but I can't.'

Ella's tear stained face nestled against his neck.

'I know,' she said, with far more weariness than any child had a right to know, 'I wish you could fix it.'

'I do, too.'

'I wish he'd never gone out for the stupid, stinking groceries. I wish he was here. I want him back, Mac.'

'I know you do, honey. I do, too.'

There was silence then, as Ella cried into his neck and he held her. Added to his grief for Sam, Mac felt a sharp grief for Ella too, mixed with guilt at the fact that he was here and Sam was not. He also felt a sudden, shockingly fierce sense of protectiveness towards her.

'iwannastaywithyou,' Ella mumbled.

'What did you say, honey?' Mac asked.

Ella's tearstained face lifted from his neck, and she met his eyes.

'I want to stay with you. I don't want to stay here with Mrs Adams. I want to stay with you. Don't send me away. Billy Samuels' mother died last year, and he doesn't have a daddy, and he got sent to Vermont to live with his granma. I don't wanna stay with Uncle Edward, he hated my Daddy and he doesn't like me. Don't send me to him, Mac, and please, please don't leave me here. I hate it here now Daddy's...'

She trailed off, and fresh tears poured down her face.

Mac cupped her chin.

'It's okay,' he said, gently, his voice still coming out choked and rough as he fought to control his roiling emotions. 'I promise I won't leave you here, and I won't send you away.'

Mac knew the hugeness of the promise he'd made, and it scared the hell out of him. He had no idea how he was going to explain what had happened to Christine, and the idea of taking on some kind of father role to this bereft little girl when he was still struggling with his recovery from what had happened seven months ago terrified him. But for all that, he knew there was no way he could possibly let Ella stay here with some neighbor, or send her to live with some man she barely knew. He knew that Sam had been estranged from his brother Edward and Ella's so called 'uncle' had seen her only once, when her mother died. And then there was the promise he'd made to Sam and Diane shortly after they adopted Ella and asked him to be her godfather. They'd asked him to be her guardian, in the event that they both died before she reached 18. Mac, still struggling with his own grief over Claire, had agreed. At the time, Ella had seemed like the one bright spot in a landscape of grief and loss and anger. The delight she'd brought to his friends, and their wanting him to be involved in her life, had given him a sense of finally being needed. He'd sworn to himself that he would not fail Ella as he had failed Claire.

Now, he felt that determination come flooding back.

'You really promise?' Ella asked.

'I promise,' Mac repeated.

Ella nodded, then buried her face in his neck again and clung to him fiercely.

Mac held the child close as she cried, softly now. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually Don came into the living room.

'Mac, I sent the neighbor home. What do you want to do now?'

Ella lifted her face from Mac's neck and peered curiously at Don.

'Are you a cop too?'

Don crossed over to sit next to Mac.

'That's right. My name's Don,'

'Are you Mac's friend?'

'Yes, I am. I've known him a long time.'

'Okay,' said Ella, as though Don being Mac's friend made him acceptable to her, with no further questions necessary.

'I'm really sorry about your daddy, honey,' Don said gently.

Ella nodded, and fresh tears fell down her cheeks.

'Me too. I wish he was here.'

Don nodded.

'Ella, can you please go and get a few things from your room, so that you can come and stay with me for at least the next few days?'

'Okay, I guess,' Ella said.

'Do you need a hand?' Mac asked.

'No, I want to do it myself.'

Mac nodded. He guessed that giving Ella something to focus on would help her a little. He knew it was when there was nothing to focus on, nothing to distract you even a little, that grief, sneaky bastard that it was, would sneak up and hit you hardest.

He watched Ella slowly leave the room, her head down, her shoulders sagging.

'She's going to be staying with you?' Don asked.

'For now, yeah. I'm her legal guardian, Don. I promised Sam and Diane I'd look after her if anything ever happened to the two of them before she reached 18. I just never thought...'

'Nobody ever thinks it will happen, Mac,' Don said, his voice soft and sad.

Mac nodded.

'I hate that this had to happen to a kid like Ella,' Don continued, 'I hate any case where kids get hurt. But it's a good thing she's got you, Mac.'

'You think?' Mac asked, 'I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to do with her, Don.'

Don smiled.

'Just do what you were doing just now. Be there for her. Kids like you, Mac. You have this way of connecting with them and making them feel safe. That's what they want, and that's all Ella needs right now. Any other stuff, worry about that later. And quit with the underestimating yourself, Mac. Any kid would be lucky to have you in their life.'

'Thanks, Don,' Mac said, surprised at the certainty in his friend's voice.

'Well, you needed to hear it. You take Ella to your place, and get her settled. I'll update Jo on what happened. I have a friend at Child Services, I'll put in a call to her and have her call you tomorrow. I found an address book in the kitchen with the name of their lawyer as well, I'll give him a call and have him call you as well. I guess he'll be the one with all the official details of your guardianship and stuff..'

'Thanks, Don,' Mac said, grateful for his friend's offer to handle at least the beginning of the various legal informs and issues that he would now have to deal with. He was utterly exhausted, emotionally and physically. His life had yet again taken a brutally abrupt turn. He'd lost yet another person close to him and now he had to not only find out the exact circumstances of his friend's death, but somehow get a ten-year-old girl through what would likely be the most difficult time of her life.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Mac opened the door to his apartment and let Ella in past him. As he locked the door, she stood by his side, head lowered, looking utterly exhausted and lost. Mac felt utter helplessness almost overwhelm him at the sight of her.

'Ella, do you want to go to bed? Or we can sit up for a while if you like. Whatever you want to do.'

'I want Daddy back,'

'I know,' Mac said, gently.

'But he's not coming back, is he,' Ella said, a statement of fact rather than a question, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his. Mac saw the depth of confusion and loss and grief in her eyes and felt his chest and throat tighten in complete understanding..

'What happened?' Ella asked.

Mac sighed. He'd known she'd ask sooner or later, and he would not lie to her or fob her off.

'Let's sit,' he said.

They sat on his couch. Mac swallowed, then said,

'It looks like another driver was speeding and crashed into your dad's car,'

'Was he drunk, the other driver? 'Cause I know that happens a lot.'

'We're not sure yet.'

'Is he dead too?'

'Yes,'

'So just because he decided to drive too fast, he's dead and my dad's dead? That's not fair, Mac. It's not...*fair*!' Angry tears spilled down Ella's cheek. Mac gently wiped them away.

'I know, Ella,' he said, 'You're right. Now I know it's probably the last thing you want to do, but you should try to get some sleep.'

Ella nodded, seeming too weary to protest.

Mac showed her the bathroom and the spare room. After she'd changed into pyjamas and brushing her teeth, Mac tucked her into the bed.

'Will you stay until I go to sleep?' Ella asked.

'Of course, honey,' Mac said.

Ella fell asleep pretty quickly, exhausted by the events of the last few hours and all the emotions that came with it. Mac watched over her for a while. He again felt that overwhelming surge of protectiveness and warmth for her. Tomorrow would be the start of a difficult time for both of them.

Noon, the next day.

Mac sat on his couch. He'd gotten a few hours sleep the night before, despite the worries that had haunted his mind, the concern for Ella, and the nagging sense of his own inadequacy in the face of her grief and her trust in him.

Ella was still sleeping, and he was reluctant to wake her. When she woke up, he knew, she'd have to face her father's glaring absence all over again.

He'd had a call both from Child Services and Sam's lawyer. Child Services had said that as he had legal guardianship of Ella, she could stay with him as long as necessary. The woman mentioned that a couple of home visits would be necessary just to make sure Ella was okay, but that given the circumstances, these could be put off for a few weeks. She also gave Mac the name of a few counsellors and support groups for kids in Ella's situation. Mac had scowled at the idea of counsellors, but he'd check with Ella. She was old enough to make her own choices about that kind of thing, and he wouldn't force her to talk to anyone she didn't want to.

Sam's lawyer had confirmed that Mac did have legal guardianship of Ella, and that this was confirmed in Sam's will. He'd asked Mac to arrange to meet him the next afternoon to go over the ins and outs of the guardianship.

'Just so you know, Mr. Taylor, the guardianship agreement does stipulate that should you for whatever reason find yourself unable to take care of Ella, she should go to the nearest surviving relative. There is an estranged brother out in California, I believe. I can contact him about the funeral once we have the date, and make him aware of Ella's status.'

Mac had thanked the man and hung up, still feeling that strong resistance to handing Ella over to people she barely knew. It felt like a betrayal, and despite his own fears, he realized he didn't want to lose her.

Now he dialed Jo's cell phone.

'Mac, how are you?'

'Okay,' he said, 'Ella's at my place.'

'Don said you're taking guardianship of her?'

'Yes,'

'That's a good thing, Mac. She's lucky to have you. Are you coming in today or...'

'Maybe later. I'm going to stay with Ella for a while. I might come to the lab to check in on you guys if I can, but I was hoping you'd run this one for me?'

'Of course. I'll keep you updated. It looks like a pretty open-and-shut one, anyway.'

'Thanks, Jo, I really appreciate it.'

'Of course. You take all the time you need, Mac. Ella's your priority now.'

'Thank you. Though I don't know how I'm going to do this. She's ten. I don't even know what cereal she likes, for God's sake, or the names of her best friends. How am I supposed to be any kind of father to her?'

'Mac, Don told me how you were with her last night. All she needs right now is someone to be there for her when she needs to cry, or rage against the world, or talk about her daddy. She won't expect you to *be* her daddy, but you're the closest thing she has right now. Just be you, okay? Do your Mac Taylor thing. You're wonderful with kids, Mac.'

Mac thanked her again, and then they said goodbye and hung up.

Feeling somewhat soothed by Jo's firm but gentle encouragement, Mac decided it was time to call the one person who he hadn't yet told about Ella. Christine. While calling her worried him - he hated the thought of burdening her yet again - he also longed for her and the simple comfort of her voice at the other end of the line. He just hoped he wasn't about to lose her.

He dialed her number.

'Well, hello, Detective,' she answered, her voice warm and playful. Despite the situation, despite the thoughts racing through his head, Mac instantly felt a responding rush of warmth and reassurance.

'Hey, Christine,' he said.

'Are you okay, Mac?' she asked, concern in her voice. He smiled wryly. He'd spoken only two words to her, yet she'd instantly intuited that something was up.

'Actually...no. Can you...would you be able to come over for a while? I...really need to see you.'

'Wait, you're not at work?'

'No. Something...happened.'

'Are you okay? Are you sick?'

'No. I just...remember Sam Brody?'

'Your old friend from the Marines, with the cute kid? Ella, right?'

'Right. He...was killed last night. Car crash.'

'Oh, Mac, I'm so sorry. You must be...wait, I'm coming over right now.'

'You're sure? If you're busy...'

'I'm coming now, Mac.'

Half an hour later, Christine entered his apartment with the key he'd given her a few months ago. Mac, waiting on the couch, stood and embraced her, holding her close, burying his face in her neck and letting his body sag against hers. All the emotions of the previous night hit him again, and he could do nothing but hold on to her. She hugged him back, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing soothing circles on his back.

'Tell me,' she said simply, after a while.

So he did. All of it. He told her about turning up at the crime scene and discovering one of the victims was Sam, about having to break the news to Ella, and about the situation he now found himself in. Afterwards, he leant back against the couch, feeling both incredibly relieved and nervous as he waited for her response.

'Oh, Mac. How awful for you, and for Ella. How is she?'

'Lost, angry, frightened,' Mac said, 'you remember how it is.'

Christine nodded.

'Where is she?'

'Sleeping. I think she needs it.'

'Good. Poor thing. God, she's only...what...eleven?' Christine said, shaking her head.

'Almost eleven,' Mac said.

'And how are you?'

'I don't know what to do, Christine. How can I possibly take on responsibility for a ten-year-old girl? How can I possibly give her everything she needs? I'm so scared I'm going to let her down, screw up her life, somehow.'

'We'll work it out,' Christine said.

Mac stared at her.

'What?'

'I said, we'll work it out. If Ella's going to be a part of your life, Mac, then she's going to be part of mine, too.'

'You mean you're...okay with all this?'

'It's a shock, sure, but I know there's no way you'd just abandon her. That's not who you are. It's one of the reasons I love you. So, however scary it is, we're going to work through this. That girl needs all the support she can get, Mac. She has no other family, right?'

'Just some uncle that her father hated and who she barely knows.'

'Right, so she needs you to look out for her, and I'm hoping she'll let me look out for her too.'

'You really are going to stay? A lot of women would run screaming,'

'Well, they'd be pretty stupid. I'm not going anywhere, Mac.'

Mac, stunned by the simple way she'd accepted this sudden change in his life, and the absolute certainty in her voice, leaned in and kissed her.

'I love you,' he murmured.

'I love you too,' she said, kissing him back, then pushing him lightly back.

'Now, enough mushy stuff. Tell me what you need me to do to help you out with all this.'

Mac was about to reply when a very small voice came from the doorway.

'Mac?'

They both turned to see Ella. She was in her pyjamas, one of her Uglydolls hanging from one hand. The utterly devastated, lost look of the night before was still on her face, and her small shoulders seemed to sag beneath an enormous, invisible weight.

Mac felt his heart just about break in his chest.

'Ella, sweetheart, come here.'

In an instant, Ella was across the room and in Mac's lap. She was really too big for it, but he allowed her to curl up against him, pressing her body tight against his, her head nestled underneath his chin.

'I woke up and it all...it all came back, and it hurts so bad, but I can't cry anymore. It hurts so _bad_, Mac.'

'Oh, Ella, I know, honey, I know,' he said, his own throat clogging with tears. He wrapped both arms around her and held her tight, kissing the top of her head. She buried her head in his chest.

'I'll give you guys some time,' Christine said gently, 'I know neither of you feel like it, but I'm going to make some toast, okay? You need to eat. I'll make some coffee for you, Mac. Ella, do you want anything?'

Ella lifted her head from Mac's chest.

'You're Mac's girlfriend, right?'

'That's right,'

'Do you know about my daddy?'

'Yes, Ella. I'm so sorry. My brother died years ago, so I know how hard everything is right now.'

'Your brother? What was his name?'

'Stan. He was a policeman, and I loved him very much.'

Ella nodded, seriously.

'I'm sorry that he died. I bet he was a really nice person. I hate that nice people have to die, don't you?'

'Yes,' Christine said.

'My daddy's name was Sam,' Ella informed her, 'and he was the best daddy in the world.'

'I bet he was,' Christine said.

'Are you going to stay here with Mac and me and help look after me?'

'If that's okay with you, Ella, I'd like that very much.'

'Yes, you should stay. That way, when I get sad, I can talk to Mac, and if he gets sad, he can talk to you.'

Mac and Christine exchanged sad smiles at Ella's observation and her concern for Mac despite her own grief.

'Okay then, I'll stay,' Christine said, 'Would you like something to drink?'

'I am kinda thirsty. My throat hurts. Maybe juice?'

'Okay. I'll go sort all that out, and you can just stay here with Mac, okay?'

Ella rearranged herself into a slightly more comfortable position on Mac's lap and readjusted her arms around his neck, a little looser this time. She nodded, then dropped her head back against his chest.

Christine headed for the kitchen but turned to watch the two of them at the door. Mac's focus was now entirely on Ella, as he held her and lowered his head to listen to something she was saying. The scene might have made some women jealous, but to Christine it made her fall even more in love with him, something that kept happening the longer she knew him. She'd seen him with kids before - at her parents' anniversary party and at Lucy's birthday, and been struck by the way he was able to connect with them, but there was a whole other level to watching him with Ella. The connection and trust and affection between the two, despite Mac's being only the girl's godfather, radiated from them, and she sensed that Mac needed Ella almost as much as the lost little girl needed him.

Later that afternoon, Mac dropped by the lab. He'd been reluctant to leave Ella, and she'd hugged him very tight before he left and made him promise to be careful driving.

'I don't want you to get hurt, too,' she said.

'I can stay here with you if you want.' he'd replied.

She'd considered, then said,

'No, it's okay. I'll stay here with Christine. She's nice. You have to go find out what happened to my dad.'

Mac understood her need to know the circumstances around her father's death. Not knowing could tear her apart, give rise to images of what _might_ have happened that would eat away at her bit by bit, plague her for the rest of her life.

'You sure?' he'd asked, still reluctant to leave her for reasons he couldn't quite put a finger on.

Ella had nodded solemnly.

'Will you call when you get to work? Just to let me know you're okay, though?'

'Of course, honey,' he said.

'Okay,' she said.

'You sure you're okay with looking after her?' he'd asked Christine.

'We'll be fine,' Christine said, 'I'll call if she needs you.'

Now in his office, he put down the phone after having just called Ella to reassure her he was fine. He sat at his desk, staring at nothing in particular, his mind reeling at how abruptly and completely his world had changed, and still wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.

His thoughts were interrupted by a light tap on his door. He looked up, and despite everything, smiled when he saw Jo. He beckoned her in.

'We're waiting in the conference room for you,' she said. Mac nodded, sighed, and followed her out of the office.

The entire team, with the exception of Hawkes, who was on vacation, was sat around the table.

'Okay, what have we got?' Mac said as he seated himself at the head of the table. Don, nearest to him, pushed a steaming cup of coffee towards him. Mac nodded his thanks.

'I'll start,' Sid said, 'Autopsy shows that Sam Brody was completely clean of any intoxicating or illegal substances. Cause of death was massive trauma to the head and chest. He would have died almost immediately. C.O.D. on our Mr Roberts is the same, however, he did _not_ have a clean tox screen. He'd consumed a considerable amount of alcohol, along with ecstasy and cocaine. Not enough to make him incapable of driving, unfortunately, but just enough to make him very dangerous and very stupid while doing so.'

'Thanks, Sid,' Mac said.

'Okay, I'll go now, if that's okay, boss?' Adam asked.

Mac nodded.

'I got security cameras from around the scene. Several of them clearly show what happened. Roberts came speeding hell for leather down this street here,' Adam pointed to the street on the map he'd brought up on the room's big screen, 'and Brody was crossing at this street here. The lights were in Brody's favour, so he goes through the junction, and Roberts runs his red light and slams right into Brody. It's all on the cameras, boss. It's pretty rough. Poor Brody never even saw it coming. I can bring the collected footage up if...'

'No,' Mac said. Hearing Adam describe it had been bad enough, he didn't need to see it. Rage boiled in him at Roberts' selfish, unthinking stupidity.

'Boss, you okay?' Adam asked, and Mac saw everyone looking at him with concern. He nodded.

'Danny, what have you got?'

'Lindsay and I examined the cars. Everything we found confirms what we already know. Both were extensively damaged. Roberts had a whisky bottle in the car with him, we found bits of it all over, looks like it was near-empty. Idiot must have been actually drinking *while* he was driving.'

'We also found various groceries in Brody's car,' Lindsay said, 'We actually found the receipt, and went to the store. Clerk confirmed he was there buying Coke, Oreos, and ice cream about half an hour before the crash.'

Mac closed his eyes briefly. Sam had gone shopping, for treats for Ella it seemed, and had ended up dead. He'd never even seen it coming.

'Don?'

'I spoke some more to our witness, the owner of the corner shop. He confirmed again that Roberts came down that street - 'like a bat out of hell' as he put it - and smashed right into Brody. He called 911, and then went to see if he could help, but seeing how bad the crash was, decided to wait for the first responders.'

'Given that both Brody and Roberts died in the crash,' Jo said, 'There's no arrests to make or charges to file. Brody's relatives could file some kind of civil suit against Roberts', but I don't see the point. Roberts' only relative was a sister who said, and I quote 'that stupid SOB was going to kill himself one day, I'm just sad that some poor other guy got hurt.' '

'Apart from Ella, Brody's only relative is an estranged brother,' Mac said, 'If he wants to file suit against Roberts' family, it's up to him. I'm not dragging Ella through anything like that.'

'Poor kid,' Adam said, softly, 'You'll look out for her, right, boss?'

'Yes,' Mac said.

'Good,' Adam said.

Jo, Sid, Adam, Danny and Lindsay left the room, Jo casting a concerned look back at Mac. He took his time gathering together the various reports on the evidence the team had put together. His mind was full of images of Sam's death, and he needed to deal with his own horror and anger before he could go home and explain to Ella what had happened.

'So, how's Ella?' Don asked, leaning against the table.

'As you'd expect,' Mac said, 'She's so lost and confused Don, and I hate seeing her in so much pain and not being able to do a single *damn* thing about it.' Mac slammed his hand down on the table on the word 'damn'.

Don just nodded.

'Poor kid,' he said, his voice full of sympathy, and quiet frustrated rage, 'I tell you, Mac, part of me wishes Roberts was still alive so he could be made to pay for what he did. Stupid bastard.'

Mac just nodded. He understood Don's rage, but mostly he just felt a kind of bone-deep weary resignation with the whole situation. He was simply too tired, and too concerned about Ella to feel the rage he'd felt earlier.

'Are you going to tell Ella what happened?' Don asked.

'Yes,' Mac said, 'I hate to do it, but yes.'

'You sure that's wise?'

'She deserves to know, Don. I know she's only ten, but she has that right. Not knowing can rip you apart, Don. I don't want her spending the rest of her life having to deal with even more 'what ifs' than she already does.'

Don nodded. He heard not only the weariness in his friend's voice, but also a desperately, achingly sad frustration and pain. Jess's death had damn near destroyed him, Don thought, but at least he *knew* the exact circumstances of her death, and had gotten the chance to see those responsible pay for what they did. Mac had never had that chance. He would never know how Claire had died. Don couldn't even begin to fathom what that must be like. And for a ten-year-old to have to endure that same agony... it didn't bear thinking about. He could barely get his head around how Mac had survived it.

'You're right,' he said. 'You call me if you need me, okay? You're totally focussed on Ella right now, and that's how it should be, but if you need to talk, or just go watch a game and down a few beers, you call me. Someone's gotta look out for you, too, Mac.'

Some of Mac's weariness lifted, and he smiled genuinely at his friend.

'Thanks, Don,' he said.

They left the room together. Don headed for the precinct and Mac took the elevator down to the parking garage.

As he drove home, the ever-present issue of his aphasia that had been hanging over his head the last few weeks filled his mind. It took the concerns and doubts he already had about his suitability as any kind of a parent figure to Ella, and darkened and twisted them still further.

_How are you going to be everything that girl needs when you can't even remember simple words and names of places? You can't even name things right, and you think you can take care of Ella?_ He felt so utterly frustrated, so *useless*. _If Christine finds out, she'll leave you, _ the thoughts continued,_ even she can only take so much. You're going to screw up at work one of these days, and then your team won't trust you anymore. _Mac struggled to push the thoughts away, but they played on a never-ending reel in his head, sibilant and constant, even as part of his mind kept focused on the task of driving.

He pulled into his usual parking spot outside his apartment building, and rested his head on the steering wheel. He hated himself for the weakness and his failure to correct it so that he could be what the people around him - Christine, the team, and now Ella - needed, He had promised Ella he would take care of her, and he intended to keep that promise. He just had no idea how he was ever going to start.

'Help me,' he whispered, to no one, his voice low and full of desperate hopelessness and guilt and sorrow for Ella and Sam, 'I don't know if I can do this.'


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

It was three days later. Mac sat beside Ella in the church where her father's funeral was being held. Tears trickled silently down her cheeks, and she kept her head lowered and resting against his shoulder, holding firmly on to his hand.

The priest was talking about Sam. Soon he would be finished, and it would be time for the eulogy.

'Do you want to speak, Ella?' he whispered into her ear.

'I'm scared.'

'I know. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Your dad would understand.'

'No, I want to say something. I'm just scared of saying it in front of all those people. What if I lose it? They'll think I'm so stupid and pathetic. Dad's other friends from the Marines are here. I don't want them to think I'm a baby. Or what if I don't cry, and everyone thinks I didn't love him enough?'

'Ella, nobody will think anything less of you if you cry up there. Or if you don't. They'd just like to hear what you have to say.'

'But they'll all be *looking* at me. I hate that,'

'What about if I come and stand next to you?' Mac whispered.

'Would you?'

'Of course, honey.'

The priest finished his speech a few moments later, and said,

'Now, I didn't know Sam all that well. But his daughter Ella is here today, and I believe she'd like to share some things about her dad with us.'

Mac, Ella, and Christine were in the front pew. Without even looking, Mac was acutely conscious of every pair of eyes in the building suddenly focussing on them, and by the way Ella tensed up next to him, he could tell she was aware of it too. Her fingers clenched tighter on his.

'Ready?' Mac asked.

She nodded.

Together they crossed the short distance to where the priest stood, and faced the small crowd of mourners. Mac noticed Jo and Don at the back of the church, and was touched that they'd taken the time out to come.

Ella swallowed hard, and squeezed Mac's hand. He squeezed back.

'My...my name is Ella Brody,' she said, 'And Sam was my dad. I...he was a very special person. He could drive me nuts sometimes. I think he kinda forgot sometimes he wasn't in the Marines anymore, because he was always nagging me about making a mess. He was worse than my Mom. Also, he was a really smart guy. He always knew what to do when something bad or scary happened, and I could tell him anything. But he was always forgetting stuff too. Like where his keys were, or that I like orange juice *with* the bits. And he always forgot to go to parent-teacher conferences...or maybe he just pretended to forget those.'

Several people chuckled.

'Anyway, my dad wasn't perfect. But he was *my* daddy, and I loved him. 'Cause he was always there for me and he remembered all the stuff that mattered, like my birthday, and that I hate pink, that I like iCarly and Spongebob Squarepants and soccer and Uglydolls. He took me to basketball and baseball games with him and sometimes other dads would ask him didn't he have a son to bring, and he would say he didn't need a son, I was better than any boy, and his favourite person in the world. He was my favourite person, too, and I'm really going to miss him. I hope he knows that I love him more than anything and that I'll never forget him. I hope all of you know what a great person he was. I...guess that's it. Thank you for coming today, I know he'd be pleased that you were all here. Um, now I'd like to play one of his favourite songs for him. I hope you like it too.'

Mac couldn't help smiling as 'Purple Haze' suddenly blared out, filling the church. Glancing at Ella, he saw a sad smile on her face too. Many of the people in the church, after a brief second of surprise, smiled too. Only a sour-looking man towards the back looked displeased.

Ella was still clutching Mac's hand as they began the slow walk out of the church behind Sam's coffin, and she kept herself as close to him as was possible without them tripping over each other.

Later, at the wake at Sam and Ella's old house, Mac sat with Ella in a corner of the living room where Ella could get away from the constant watching and sympathizing of well-meaning guests. She'd let go of his hand, but was still leaning on him. She'd stopped crying, and just seemed utterly exhausted. Mac wanted to get her out of here and back to the quiet and safety of his place as soon as they could respectably get away. He knew all too well how wearying the endless, well-meant 'I'm so sorry''s could be, and how obvious and galling people's supposedly subtle pitying looks could be, too. Ella was far too smart not to notice them.

'I'll get you out of here soon, okay?'

'Okay,' she said. Then she looked at a couple approaching them. Her expression switched from exhausted sadness to anger.

'Oh, crap. Not *them*' she muttered.

Mac looked over. A tall man that looked a little like Sam, without Sam's natural warmth, was approaching them. He was balding, though trying (unsuccessfully) to hide it by combing his wispy blonde hair over the spot. He was dressed in an ancient-looking black suit that looked like something out of _The Addams Family. _The woman on his arm was overweight and wore too much make up, wearing an oddly shiny black dress so tight that it looked like sausage casing about to burst. Mac realized that the man was the one who'd seemed displeased with the playing of 'Purple Haze' back at the church.

They stopped a short distance from the couch, and Mac and Ella stood to meet them. The man and woman smiled, but the smile did not reach their eyes, not even when they looked at Ella.

'You're Sam's friend? The one he left guardianship of young Elaine here to?' the man asked.

'Ella,' Mac corrected. ' And I'm Mac Taylor.'. He kept his voice cool and polite, taking an instant dislike to the man.

'Hmm. Hello, young Ella.' the man said.

'How are you *doing?* You poor little girl!' said the man's wife, her voice dripping with overdone sympathy that made Mac shudder and Ella flinch.

She had moved herself so she was half-behind Mac, holding firmly on to his arm with one hand. She scowled and remained silent. Mac didn't blame her, if someone got his name wrong and then asked him a stupid question, he'd be pissed off too.

The man shrugged and looked back at Mac.

'My name is Edward Brody. This is my wife, Louise. I am Sam's brother. We were estranged, due to a difference of opinion over his...choices in life. I believe you have spoken to my brother's lawyer, as have I. We don't wish to challenge your guardianship to Ella, Mr Taylor. After all, it was Sam's wish that she should live with you, and we will respect that. He was her adopted father after all.'

'He was my *father*, you total jackass,' Ella said, her voice soft but furious.

'Ella,' Mac said gently, 'Give me a minute with these people, okay? Christine's over there, can you go and wait with her?'

Ella hesitated, seeming part relieved to be getting away from these relatives she clearly hated, and who appeared to have no real love for her either, and partly reluctant to leave Mac alone with them.

'It's okay,' Mac said, gently. Ella nodded, and walked away, glancing back a few times.

'Good.' Edward said, 'Without the child here, we can talk properly. Louise, dear, do go and mingle, will you?'

Louise Brody left.

Mac found himself disliking this man more and more. He seemed cold and distant to even his wife, and his dismissive attitude towards Ella was grating on Mac's nerves.

'Her name is Ella,' he said, 'She's not 'the child'.'

Edward nodded, slowly, like he didn't quite get Mac's point.

'Now, as I was saying, we won't contest your right to take...Ella. But should you decide you don't want the burden, Louise and I will take her on. We're quite well off, and I would send her to an excellent school up in Washington state that caters especially to problem children such as Ella. It's called Myerson Boarding School, and they have excellent facilities and living quarters. It would be a good place for her.'

Mac's fists clenched at the words 'burden' and 'problem child.' His tone low and deadly cold, he said,

'What precisely do you mean by 'problem' child? From what I know, Ella's very bright, and has been doing well at school. Sam was very proud of her. She has a rebellious streak, but that's inherited from her father, and what child her age doesn't push the boundaries a little?'

'_Good _children don't push the boundaries, Mr Taylor. And I was referring to her background. She's damaged goods. The child was put into the care system as an infant. I can only imagine what kind of parents she had, what kind of genes she inherited, what kind of problems she may...inherit. Drug addiction, mental health issues...God only knows what might emerge, especially during her teenage years. The Myerson School would be able to deal with such issues, and curb the child's...unpleasant nature, which you yourself saw her exhibit towards my wife and I today. We are family, and she looked at us like we meant nothing to her. And the song she chose for her father's funeral was hardly an appropriate choice. Not the kind of music a normal child her age should listen to.'

'Well,' Mac said, his tone dropping several degrees further, ' I happen to like 'Purple Haze', and Sam loved that song. It meant a lot to him. As for her attitude towards you, that's probably because you don't mean anything to her. You basically disowned her father when he married Diane, and you never once sent her birthday or Christmas gifts, or had anything to do with her.'

'She's not blood family,' Edward replied, indignant, 'She's just a charity case my brother took on. However, as much as I disagree with the choices he made in life, I _am_ his brother, and if you decide you don't want to take the girl on, my wife and I would take custody and provide her with an excellent education. It is our duty, a heavy one, but one we would take.'

Mac wanted to punch the man in his self-righteous face. The absolute certainty with which he seemed to believe that Ella, a ten year old girl, was 'damaged goods' disgusted him, but even worse was the absolute lack of any warmth in the way he spoke about her. He would take on Ella only as a last resort, and obviously planned to turn over ultimate responsibility of her to the school he had referred to.

It was in that instant that Mac knew. He would *not* let Ella go to this man. The idea of becoming a father figure to her terrified him, and he still wasn't sure he could do it right, or be what she needed. But however badly he might screw up, he understood that to let her so-called 'uncle' take her on would be much worse, and he would not betray Sam, or Ella, that way.

He leveled an icy glare at Edward, who took a step back under the force of Mac's silent anger and disgust.

'Ella is a wonderful young lady. She's bright, and intelligent, and loving. She's had a hard life, and she's suffered two tragic losses in the last five years. But she is _not_ 'damaged goods'. Thank you for your...offer, Mr Brody, but let me make myself clear. I don't want it. I wouldn't let you take care of Ella if the only other option was giving her to a pack of wolves.'

Edward Brody took another step back, and shrugged, as though they'd been discussing nothing particularly significant. 'Very well,' he said, 'But don't come begging us to take her when she starts ruining your life.'

'Ella could only possibly make my life better,' Mac said, trying not to think about his worry that _he_ might screw up somehow. 'And so I won't be coming anywhere near you again. Nor will Ella, I imagine. She's right. You _are_ a jackass.'

Edward scowled, and turned and stalked away.

'You okay, Mac?' Don Flack asked, suddenly appearing beside him. 'I heard the last bit of that little chat. Can I please book that guy for being a total asshole?'

Mac managed a wry smile.

'I wish.'

'Did you mean what you said? That you won't be giving up Ella?'

Mac nodded.

'I did. God help us both, but no matter what, I would never give Ella to that excuse for a human being. I've spoken to both Child Services and Sam's lawyer, and there'll be various hoops to jump through and lots of paperwork, but she's going to be living with me from now on. Now I just have to figure out how to raise a nearly-teenage girl and not screw up her life completely.'

Flack smiled, and patted Mac on the back.

'You won't ever screw up too badly, Mac. I mean, you've looked after Danny, who's basically no different to a teenage girl, for the past nine years. And you've got Jo to help you out. And the lovely Christine. And me.'

Mac chuckled.

'You? What do you know about raising a girl Ella's age?'

'Hey, I have a sister. She was a teenager once. And I make the best pancakes in the world. And I have a dog. Kids like dogs.'

Mac grinned.

'You do make good pancakes,' he said, 'And Ella would love to meet your dog.'

Don nodded, grinning.

'And besides, Ella will need a 'cool uncle' type to complain to about you when you annoy her, and to spoil her. She can come over to my place and hang with me and the pooch when you and Christine need some alone time, too. Give me an excuse to order an extra-large pizza.'

Mac chuckled again, and then a sudden awareness of the emptiness at his side filled him. He scanned the crowd, and felt a flare of alarm when he couldn't see either Christine or Ella immediately.

'Where's Ella?' he said.

'She's over there with Jo.' Don pointed.

Mac felt an unreasonably strong surge of relief, and hurried over to where Ella stood with Jo by the table where food and drink was laid out. Don followed, and he and Jo moved away to the other end of the table, talking quietly and scavenging food from the nearly-finished buffet layout.

Ella looked up at him, worried and serious.

'You're not going to give me to Edward the Jackass, are you?' she asked, real fear in her voice.

Mac looked into her eyes, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

'Never,' he said.

Ella's whole body sagged with relief, and she leant into him. He felt the weariness in her whole body. He hoped today had brought her some measure of peace, at least she had had her chance to say goodbye, and now had a place where she could visit both of her parents and feel close to them. Mac knew how precious that was. He hoped the funeral would give her the chance to start finding her own way to move forward with the pain and the memories she would always carry. But she was only ten years old, and today had been long and exhausting emotionally and physically, made worse by the encounter with Edward Brody and his wife.

He held her close, letting her lean her full weight against him.

He saw Jo and Don smiling at them, and Jo gave him an approving nod.

Mac smiled back.

'C'mon, Ella, let's go,' he said. If people whispered about them leaving, screw them, he thought. Ella and what she needed- which right now was clearly a quiet, private place, and rest - was all he cared about.

She nodded against his chest and then pulled away, sliding her hand into his. Mac squeezed her hand gently but firmly, needing the contact with her, and the knowledge that she was here and safe. Again that strange rush of warmth and protectiveness and something that seemed more and more like love, filled his chest. The idea of Ella not being in his life seemed even more impossible than the idea of her being in it every day from now on. The force of the emotion was startling, and a little frightening, but not one he wanted to lose. Ever.

Mac opened his eyes. It was no good. He'd drifted off for a while, but then the thoughts had engulfed him again, making any kind of real rest impossible. He knew his decision to take on full-time care of Ella was the right one, however scary the idea of being a father was. The thoughts that kept tormenting him were of his aphasia. It wasn't going away any time soon. That meant he had to deal with it. He had to find some way to live with this horrible, infuriating weakness that meant he couldn't name the most basic of things. And he had to do it while trying to raise a girl who had found herself alone in the world, having suffered more loss than anyone should, and who was depending on him to keep her safe. How was he supposed to do that if he couldn't remember the word for 'red' or 'triangle' or 'pharmacy'?

The stress and strain of it hanging over his head like the goddamn sword of Damocles for the past month was suddenly so crushing he could hardly breathe.

He couldn't do it alone. Not anymore. If he just had himself to consider, then he would have tried, it was after all, *his* problem and *his* weakness. But to keep trying that now...it would drive him over the edge, break him. Mac had been over the edge, been broken, once before, and he couldn't let it happen again.

But that meant he would have to tell someone - Christine first, he thought regretfully - about it. And there was a good chance that she would leave. There was a good chance that he'd lose his team in all the ways that mattered, too. He shuddered at the myriad of potential consequences. But there would be consequences if he kept it to himself, too. He had to decide which set of consequences would be more potentially harmful to Ella, and he understood that it would be those of his keeping this to himself. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He *hated* this. He'd honestly thought the damn thing would resolve itself. But it hadn't. He owed it to Christine, to his team, and most of all to Ella, to finally talk about it, whatever happened. It was the one of the most terrifying, nerve-wracking, outright painful realizations Mac had ever experienced. He had to do it. He just had no idea how he was going to bring himself to open his mouth and say the words.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Deciding that sleep was not going to be a possibility, Mac got up. He'd picked up some paperwork from work which he hoped would help distract him somewhat from the thoughts going round and round in his mind. He stepped out into the hall and headed for the living room. As he neared the door to Ella's room, he heard sobbing coming from inside.

He pushed open the door gently. What he saw made his chest and heart clench with a helpless kind of pain.

He could make out Ella's curled up form beneath her blanket. The blanket was shaking with the force of her sobs.

He crossed the room in three huge strides and gently lowered himself to the bed. He carefully pulled the blanket away from Ella. She was curled in a near fetal position, sobbing with a kind of agonized desperation that was all too familiar to Mac. He'd known this would come. This moment, when she realized just how gone her dad was, that he was truly *never* coming back. While having had the chance to bury Sam would hopefully give her some sense of closure, and a place for her to be close to him, Mac understood that there was also an awful *finality* to it. Then there was the fact that Ella's father had been ripped from her life completely unexpectedly and because of the stupidity of another man who wasn't around to answer for what he'd done.

She was raging against the utter unfairness and brutality of it. He knew it was tearing her up inside, that she was unable put this raw grief into any kind of words. He knew, too, that there was not a single, solitary thing he could say to help her, or anything he could do to make it better. He hated that at so young an age she'd been forced to deal with this kind of agony a second time, and he hated his helplessness in the face of it.

Swallowing hard against the lump forming in his own throat, he whispered,

'Ella, I'm here.'

He wrapped both arms around her, pulling her to him gently, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted. She didn't. She uncurled enough to nestle herself against him, burying her face in his ratty old Marines t-shirt, which soon was soaked with her tears. Her arms latched round his neck and she clung so tight that breathing was a little difficult.

Mac had no idea how long they sat like that. At some point, her violent, body-shaking sobs died into weary hiccuping ones, and then further petered out into weary little sniffles. He held her, stroked her hair and back, occasionally softly speaking her name, but nothing else, just reassuring her that he was there, and she was not alone.

Finally, she pulled back just the tiniest bit, and looked up at him. Mac inwardly winced. Her eyes were red and sore-looking and her face blotchy, and the look in her eyes was one of utter incomprehension and loss.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

'You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, Ella.'

'It just all...it just...'

'I know,' he said.

'I HATE the world. I HATE it. And I HATE that man who killed him. And I HATE that he's never, ever coming back. It's NOT FAIR. Why can't bad people die, Mac? Like that druggie girl who shot you, like those disgusting creeps who kidnap little kids and do sick things to them, or serial killers, or people who hit their kids? Why can't THEY die? Huh? Why does it have to be good, nice, people who never did anything wrong, like your wife and my dad? WHY?'

'I don't know, Ella,' he said, softly. 'I hate it, too.'

Ella nodded. His agreement with her, and his making no attempt to contradict her or somehow justify what had happened seemed to soothe her somewhat, and she leant her head back against his chest.

'Can I ask you something, and you'll tell me the truth?'

'Of course,'

'How did you do it? When your wife died. How did you...how did you, like, not just give up? How did you get from...from feeling like *this* to now? It hurts so bad, I don't get how anyone could...'

Mac stroked her back.

'I honestly don't know. I hit rock bottom, just like you have now, and for a long time, I did want to give up. It was so hard without her. I missed her so much I could hardly breathe sometimes. But...I just kept moving forward. I think that's all there is to do. I found things to channel my anger into - work, martial arts. And I realized there were still people around who I cared about enough to not give up.'

'But it doesn't...stop? Missing them?'

'No, it doesn't, Ella.'

'It was so bad when Mom died, but not like this. I had Dad. Now...'

Ella shrugged again and shivered, unable to form words to describe what she was feeling.

Mac understood that.

'I get it,' he said, 'And I want you to know that I know it's nowhere near good enough, but I'm here for you, Ella. Always. Anytime.'

'I know that. I think you're the one reason I'm not, like, totally losing it. And you shouldn't say you're 'not good enough'. If I can't have my dad, I'm glad I have *you*. You're better than some stupid social worker or foster mom or shrink or whoever they assign kids like me when they don't have a Mac of their own. You won't leave me too, will you, Mac?'

'No,' Mac said, feeling a rush of that increasingly familiar warmth and attachment rush through him again. He felt that he _couldn't _leave her, even if he wanted to. The idea seemed utterly impossible, even more impossible than the idea of raising a near-teenage girl. Along with protectiveness, he felt a bone-deep *connection* with Ella that went way past his friendship with Sam or the fact that he was her godfather.

'Good,' she said. 'I can't lose you, too.'

They sat in silence for a while, and then Ella said,

'My eyes hurt, and my throat. And I'm kinda cold. But I don't wanna go back to bed.'

'How about you go run a sink of cool water and clean your face with a flannel. Then I'll make you some hot milk and we can watch one of your Spongebob DVDs, or I could read to you, or we could just sit.'

Ella considered.

'Would you really read to me?'

'Of course. When you've washed your face, why don't you bring your blanket out to the couch with you, so you can keep warm?'

'Okay,' Ella sniffled, and hugged Mac tight. 'Thanks, Mac.'

While Ella was in the bathroom, Mac heated some milk in the microwave and mixed in some cocoa powder. He poured it into a mug.

When he entered the living area, Ella was waiting on the couch, her blanket wrapped round her. He sat next to her and handed her the hot milk. She immediately snuggled up to him. She handed him a book. Mac reached up and flicked on the reading lamp that stood by the couch.

'_The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett_' he read. Ella nodded.

'It's my favourite. It's about this girl called Tiffany, she's nine years old and she's a witch. Have you read it?'

'No,' Mac said.

'Okay, then start at the beginning. Oh, but don't do silly voices. You have to read it as *you*, like my dad did. I like it better when people read normally.'

Mac smiled slightly at the conviction and sternness in Ella's quiet voice - the girl knew what she liked, and how she liked it.

'Okay,' he said. He opened the book to the first page, cleared his throat, and began to read.

As he read, he felt Ella relax still further against him, leaning in to see the odd illustration. He even saw the flicker of a smile on her face at the funny parts. The book seemed to allow her an escape, a kind of peace. Mac felt it too. Whether it was the oddly reassuring warmth and solidity of Ella curled into his side, or simply that in concentrating on reading to her, all his worries about how exactly he was going to basically raise and be responsible for a ten year old girl, his grief and anger over Sam's death, even his worries about his aphasia, seemed become somehow not as glaringly looming and threatening as they had been just an hour before.

**The next morning**

Christine knocked lightly on Mac's door. After she'd waited a while, she figured he was maybe in the shower or maybe out with Ella somewhere. It would be nice to surprise them both with breakfast. She took the key Mac had given her a few months ago from her bag, and unlocked the door. She walked through to the living room, and smiled at what she saw.

Mac and Ella were sprawled out on his couch, which was only just wide enough to fit them. Ella was curled up against Mac, with one arm around one of her Uglydolls and the other hanging over the edge of the couch. Mac was sprawled next to her, bare feet sticking over the end of the couch, one arm draped loosely, protectively over Ella. Both were sound asleep, and looked peaceful, and both looked younger than they did when awake. The blanket from the spare room was draped over Ella, with a little bit covering Mac as well. Moving closer, Christine saw a book - _The Wee Free Men_ on the floor next to the couch. Mac must have been reading to her last night.

She saw the wordless connection and closeness and understanding between them, that went way beyond the basic situation they'd both found themselves in. Anyone who wasn't aware of that situation would assume that they were father and daughter, they looked so natural together.

She remembered just a few days ago when he'd told her about Sam dying and him being Ella's guardian - how when Ella had come seeking comfort, he had given her exactly what she needed, without a hint of pity or patronizing platitudes. She remembered watching Mac hold Ella then, and holding her hand at the funeral. He made Ella feel safe, as he did Christine herself. One of the things she loved most about Mac was how, once you'd earned his trust and affection, you could tell him anything, and he would really *listen*. She could easily understand how that, along with the air of protectiveness and safety Mac exuded, would be exactly what a girl in Ella's position would look for and cling to in the adults left around her. But the connection between the two of them went both ways.

Ella had brought Mac out of himself. He'd barely gone into work since Sam had died, throwing himself into looking after Ella rather than into the case. He'd been more open with Christine, too. Since Sam's death, he'd actually talked to her about what was going on in his head, his grief for Sam, and even about what he'd gone through after Claire's death. She sensed there was something else, something big, bothering him. Something other than the situation he'd suddenly found himself in with Ella, and the death of yet another person he cared about. She wasn't going to push him on it, not until she had to. She hoped that Ella's arrival in his life would help Mac to find a way to talk about whatever it was that so clearly dogged him the last month or so.

Ella suddenly stirred, and opened her eyes.

'Oh, Christine, hey,' she said, 'Is it morning?'

'Yes. How are you?'

'Not so good,'

Christine nodded.

Ella sat up, carefully, and looked down at Mac. She smiled suddenly, then looked up at Christine.

'Aw, he looks kinda cute when he's asleep. Not so stressed.' she said.

'He does,' Christine said, smiling back. She watched as Ella got up from the couch slowly and carefully so as not to wake Mac, and her smile widened as she watched Ella carefully drape the full blanket over Mac, and even tuck the pink Uglydoll she'd been sleeping with in next to him. Mac shifted in his sleep, and both Ella and Christine grinned as he unconsciously pulled the soft toy closer to him.

'Come on, why don't you come help me with breakfast?' Christine asked.

Ella nodded, and they crept into the kitchen.

Mac woke up. It took him a moment to realize that he was not in his bedroom, but on the couch. He felt something soft next to him, and looked down to find Ella's pink Uglydoll resting against his chest, looking mutely back at him with it's three eyes. He shook his head, and hoped Don Flack never found out about this particular moment.

He got up from the couch, groaning slightly as his back and legs protested. He noted the smell of bacon and eggs, and shuffled into the kitchen to find Christine at the stove.

'Well, good morning, sleepyhead,' Christine said, smiling at him.

Mac smiled back. It felt wonderful finding her here like this.

'Morning,' he said, moving over to where she stood and kissing her lightly on the lips.

'Where's Ella?'

'In the bathroom. She helped with this, though. It's nearly ready.'

Mac nodded.

'Look, there's something I need to talk to you about later,' he said.

'Okay,' Christine said.

He'd decided at some point between when Ella had finally fallen asleep last night and before he had himself, that the next time he was alone with Christine, he would tell her about his aphasia. He still had no idea how to even begin to do it, though, which was why sleep had been a long time coming, and brief and restless when it did.

Ella came in to the kitchen then, dressed and looking much better than she had in days. Last night, however wrenching it had been for her, seemed to have done her some good. She still looked pale and drawn and sad, but the air of desperate hopeless grief had gone, for now at least. Mac knew she would have to deal with that kind of grief again, it would never leave her. But today, for the first time, she looked less weighed down by it all. She smiled at him, and as he went to the fridge to get juice, she got glasses down from the cupboard, and after he'd poured juice into them, she carried them to his small kitchen table. Once they were sat eating their eggs and bacon, Mac watched as she proceeded to cover her eggs in tomato ketchup.

'Do you want eggs with all that ketchup?' he asked.

Ella stuck her tongue out at him.

'You need more ketchup,' she said, simply, waving the bottle at him, 'This one isn't gonna last much longer. And orange juice with the bits.'

'We'll have to go shopping,' Mac said.

They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, and then Ella said,

'I want to go back to school today,'

Mac sipped his juice.

'Are you sure you're ready? You can stay off for as long as you need.'

'I think I'm ready. I just...I mean, you've been great, Mac, and you too, Christine, but if I stay here all day for much longer, I'm gonna start thinking stuff I don't want to think about. And I want to see my friends. And today is soccer practice. I miss soccer. Do you think that would be okay?'

Mac nodded.

'Yes, if that's what you need. You know you can call me if you decide it's too much and you want me to come get you?'

Ella nodded.

'Yeah, thanks. I'm kinda scared, but I've got to do this. I think maybe it's what my dad would want me to do.'

'So, do you have all the stuff you need for school here?'

Ella nodded.

'Yeah. My soccer stuff is in my locker, and I have most of my books here. Will you be able to get the rest of my stuff later? I don't want to get it. I don't want to go back to...the house.'

'Of course. I'll pick all your stuff up today.'

'Cool, thanks. Can I go call my friend to let her know I'm coming today?'

Mac nodded.

Ella grabbed her juice and left the room.

As Mac and Christine washed up, Christine said,

'You were very sweet to her. About the whole going back thing.'

'I understand why she wants to go,' Mac said, 'I think it might do her some good, give her something to focus on. I'm worried that people will treat her differently though. You know how awful that can be.'

Christine nodded.

'I do. But she'll deal with it, Mac. I'm sure at least some of her friends are smart enough to see past what happened. And she has you at her back if people do treat her different. You, more than anyone, understand what that'll be like for her.'

'I just wish I could protect her from it,' Mac said.

'You can't protect her from everything, Mac. You're going to have to accept that.'

He sighed.

'I know.'

An hour later, Mac pulled up outside Ella's school.

'You okay?' he asked.

She nodded, a little uncertainly.

'I guess. It's so weird, though. Like, I feel like I don't fit in here the way I did before. It's different.'

Mac nodded.

'It will be,' he said, 'You've been through a lot, Ella, and it's changed you.'

'What if they all stare at and whisper about me? What if my friends don't want to be my friends anymore?'

'I'll be honest with you, honey. Some people will stare and whisper. Some people will treat you differently. All you can do is get through it. Your real friends might be a little odd around you at first, because they don't know what to say, but they'll get over it. If they don't, and if they don't want to be your friend anymore, then they're idiots who don't deserve you.'

'Did people treat you different after your wife died?'

'They did. But the people who were my real friends got over it for the most part.'

'Did it help you, going back?'

'Yes, it gave me something to focus on, something I could do to make a difference. It wasn't easy, especially at first, but it was what I needed.'

Ella nodded.

'I think that's why I want to go back.'

'Well, if you decide you really can't do it, call me, and no matter what I'm doing, I'll come and get you,' Mac said.

Ella hugged him.

'Thanks,' she said, 'Bye.'

'I'll pick you up after school, what time will you be done with soccer practice?'

'Like about 4:30pm. See you then, Mac. And don't forget the ketchup and orange juice,'

She got out of the car, and Mac watched as she met a dark-haired girl who looked the same age as her. The girl hugged Ella. Ella pointed at Mac and said something to her friend, who looked over, and they both waved.

Mac waved back, and pulled away, not wanting to embarrass Ella by hanging around too long.

As Ella walked into school with her friend, Stacie, Stacie said.

'I'm so sorry about your dad,'

'Thanks.'

'Is that guy who dropped you off your godfather?'

'Yes. He's called Mac.'

'I'm so glad he's been looking after you. He looks nice. What's he do?'

'He's head of the New York Crime Lab,' Ella said, proudly.

'Really? Cool! So, is he gonna be looking after you from now on?'

'Yeah. He's my guardian.'

'So that means you won't be moving away?'

'No, I'm staying here.'

'Yay! I was like so scared you were gonna be sent away to live somewhere else.'

'Me, too,' Ella confessed.

'So, do you wanna know what Jimmy Sanders did the other day?'

As Stacie talked, Ella was aware of kids staring and whispering. It made her angry, but she thought about what Mac had said. When she next caught a group of girls staring at her like she was an alien, she stopped and said,

'Hey, you want to take a picture? It'll last longer.'

The girls hurried away.

The next time Ella saw a group of kids looking at her, she was about to say something, but then Stacie marched over to them and yelled,

'Yo, freaks, stop staring at my friend that way!'

When she came back to Ella's side, Ella smiled.

'Thanks, Stace.'

'Yeah, well. They shouldn't stare like that. Weirdos. Anyone gives you any trouble today, they'll have me to deal with.'

Ella smiled. Today wasn't going to be easy, but she had Stacie, and she had Mac. She thought she could do this. She hoped somewhere, somehow, her dad was watching and would be proud.

Mac pulled up outside Ella's school. He'd spent the day collecting the remainder of her things from her and Sam's old house and putting them in her room at his place. It had felt good to see his boring spare room begin to transform in a real bedroom for Ella. He'd also been shopping for the various things she'd requested that morning, and had lunch with Christine and coffee with Jo. For a day that didn't involve him going into work, he'd been surprisingly busy. She was waiting with the friend he'd seen earlier.

'Hi, Mac,' Ella said as she climbed into the car and buckled herself in.

'How was it?' Mac asked as he pulled out into the flow of after-school traffic. He felt a flash of amazement that he was doing this. That instead of being behind his desk doing paperwork or running an experiment or out at a scene, he was picking up a child who was now 'his' from school. He smiled at the thought.

'It was kinda okay,' she said, 'A lot of people were treating me different, staring and whispering and stuff, which was really annoying. But Stacie was great. I just feel so different now, you know? Like there's this whole invisible barrier between me and nearly everyone else. Like I'm some kind of freak.'

Mac nodded.

'I know how that feels. It's tough.'

Ella nodded.

'It's just so, like, frustrating.'

'I know,' Mac said. 'Do you want to go for pizza and maybe talk about it some more? Or not talk about it at all, if you want.'

Ella smiled.

'That would be cool,' she said.

Twenty minutes later, they were sat at a small table at Mac's favourite pizza place, sharing a medium pepperoni pizza and drinking large Cokes. Mac listened as Ella told him about her day. She talked a little more about how it had felt to go back after what had happened, but also about all the things a girl her age should talk about - lessons and teachers she liked and had missed and those she had not - 'I hate Math. It sucks'. She told him about kids at school, about the girl in her grade who had her ears pierced and the boy who tripped in the cafeteria and spilt his lunch on the principal. Mac relished in listening to her talk. Not just because it was good to see her talk about 'normal' things, but also because it gave him an insight into Ella and her life that he'd never had before. She was smart and observant and some of her observations made Mac laugh out loud. One thing he liked about kids was that they tended to see right through any fakeness, and to pretty much do away with both prejudice and political correctness at once. Ella told him about a girl in a wheelchair who she didn't like 'because she's mean to everyone all the time but whenever people tell on her she acts like she's being bullied 'cause she's disabled, and like hides behind her disability' and about a boy who had been kept back in her grade because he had learning difficulties but who she 'really liked even though he's a bit weird'. Listening to Ella talk was refreshing and just simply fun, and vastly different to talking to adults.

When they'd finished their pizza, Mac ordered another Coke and caved in to Ella's puppy-dog-eyed request for a milkshake. The drinks came, and Ella stirred her milkshake with her straw, quiet for a moment. Mac wondered if perhaps she was thinking again about Sam, but then she said,

'Mac, if I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Are you okay? It's just you seem kind of sad and stressed lately, and like it's more than just about my dad and your job and looking after me. I don't like it.'

Mac almost reassured her he was fine. But he'd said he'd tell her the truth.

'I...there is something bothering me. I have a...problem, and I need to tell Christine and my friends at work about it, but...'

'But you're scared if you do they'll treat you different, see you different, like some of the kids at school today did to me?'

_Damn, she's smart,_ Mac thought.

'Yes,' he said, softly.

'Well, I'm just a kid, obviously, but I know some things. First what my dad told me, which is that the right thing and the easy thing are, like, hardly ever the same thing. Doing what's right is usually hard. Like you and me. The easy thing for you to do would be to give me to Edward the Jackass. Taking me was the harder thing to do, but it was right, so you did it. Or like me,at the funeral. It would have been easy to just sit there and not give my talk about dad, but I knew he would want me to do the speech thing, so I did. The second thing my dad told me is that when you have to do something scary or painful, it's often better to just do it, and not think and think and think about it, 'cause then it just blows up into this whole massive scary bad thing even worse than it is. Like taking off a Band Aid or me going back to school today, or going to the dentist. Dad said often when you do the thing you're scared or worried about, it turns out not to be so bad after all.'

'You're right,' Mac said, surprised at how reassuring and encouraging he found what she'd said. Somehow the words of a ten-year-old girl resonated more with him than anything any doctor could have said.

'I haven't finished yet,' Ella said, sounding pleased but mildly annoyed at his interruption.

'The last thing I know is what you told me this morning. That if people couldn't get past what happened to me and treated me differently forever because of it, they don't deserve me. Stacie said the same thing. Those kind of people are losers. So, if you did tell Christine and your friends at work what's up with you and they treated you different and saw you as a freak or whatever, then they're not really your friends. But I kinda think they won't do that. I mean, Christine *loves* you and when you love someone, you don't care if they have problems. And if she *does* like, leave you, which she won't but if she did, I'll look after you. Whatever your problem is, I won't care. Unless you're secretly in love with Justin Bieber. Then i would be have to disown you..'

Mac stared at Ella for a moment. Her assurance that Christine wouldn't leave him had been so confident, and her statement that if Christine did leave, she, Ella, would 'look after him' made his entire body fill with a kind of warmth and lightness. He'd been so preoccupied with working out how to look out for Ella and give her what she needed and deserved that he'd never even thought that she would feel the same need to look out for _him_.

'So?' Ella said.

'So, what?'

'Are you gonna tell Christine what's upsetting you?'

'I am,' Mac said.

'You promise you'll do it tonight?'

'Tonight?' Mac said.

'Tonight,' Ella said firmly.

Mac closed his eyes, sighed. She was right, he knew.

'Yes, tonight,' he said.

'Good. And when you feel ready, will you tell me?'

'I will, Ella,' he promised.

'Okay. Come on, let's go.'

Mac paid at the counter and walked out to the car with Ella. Somehow, the thought of telling Christine about his aphasia, though still nerve-wracking, no longer seemed to be as looming or threatening as it had just an hour before.

'Mac?'

'Yes, honey?'

'You're not actually secretly in love with that loser Bieber, are you?'

Mac laughed.

'I promise you, Ella, that's not it. I don't even know any of his songs.'

'Good,' Ella said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

Mac finished the chapter of _The Wee Free Men_ that he'd been reading and got up from the bed. He tucked Ella in, snugging her Uglydoll in beside her.

'Goodnight, Ella,' he said.

''Night, Mac.'

He left her room, closing the door behind him. He walked into his living room and found Christine curled up on his couch, watching tv.

'Hey,' Christine said,

'Hey,' Mac said, settling down beside her. She snuggled up against him and he draped his arm over her shoulder.

'You're so good with her,' Christine said.

'Ella? She's a great kid. Still struggling with a lot of stuff. It's so hard for her right now, but she's somehow holding up.'

'It's tough enough when you're an adult,' Christine said, 'I can't imagine what it's like for a kid. But you're the best possible person for her to have around right now, Mac.'

Mac nodded, but those old doubts resurged, and with them, thoughts of the main reason for them - his aphasia. He looked down at Christine. His throat felt dry and his chest felt tight, and he closed his eyes against the raging, confused storm of emotions and thoughts that roiled inside his head. _If I tell her, she'll leave. If I don't tell her, she'll leave. _He raged against the position he'd been put in, the weakness and inadequacy he felt, and most of all the loneliness of it. He swallowed, licked his suddenly dry lips, and took a breath. It was now or never. He had to tell her.

'Christine, there's something I need to tell you,'

She looked up at him and her eyes filled with instant concern as she picked up on the seriousness of his tone. She switched off the tv and sat up next to him, waiting.

'I should have told you this before now, and I didn't, and that was wrong.'

'What is it, Mac?' she asked, softly.

He took a breath.

'You probably noticed that since...since I got out of the hospital, I've had trouble...remembering things. Little things. Like the name one of your favourite restaurants. But it's more than that. I can't... remember the words for the most basic things. Colours...foods, simple things...I...I hoped it would just...that I could deal with it, but it hasn't...it hasn't gone away.'

'I did notice. I just figured it was some kind of temporary thing, a result of what happened to you.'

Mac nodded, slowly, swallowed. God, this was hard. He hated this. Not so much admitting to a weakness, not with Christine, but for burdening her yet again with his weaknesses.

'It's called aphasia. It means I can describe things or places perfectly, I just can't remember the name of them. I saw a neurologist about it, and he said it might be temporary, or it might...not. I...we...might have to live with this, Christine.'

Shock and sadness registered on Christine's face, and then she shook her head.

'Mac, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.' she said.

Mac looked at her.

'I am?'

'Yes. Do you know why you're an idiot?'

Mac waited.

'You've been keeping this to yourself all these months, trying to deal with it alone. I hate when you do that, Mac. You always take on so much responsibility for everyone around you. Sometimes that's a good thing. The way you've taken on Ella, the way you clearly feel about her, is wonderful. But then you go and pull something like this. I know that for a long time you've had to deal with everything all by yourself, but you don't need to do that anymore. You *can't* do that anymore. You have Jo and Don who would do *anything* for you and the rest of them would too. And you have me. I don't expect you to talk about the horrible stuff you deal with on cases, but you have to share stuff like this with me. I love you, as you are, right here, right now. You, with your stubbornness and your dedication to your job that sometimes means you have to miss out on our dates, and your pride, and the fact that I know a part of you will always love and belong to Claire. Now that you've taken on Ella, and you have this aphasia thing, I *still* love you, Mac. Because all of those things are a part of _you_. I just need you to stop trying to be the strong one all the time and deal with everything alone as some well-meaning attempt to protect me. I've dealt with the harsh side of life too. I'm not going to run away from you because you have a memory problem. I want to be in this for the long haul, but if you want that too, you have to start...letting me in more, okay? Especially now that we have Ella to consider. She's not going to care if you can't remember the words for things, Mac, but she *is* going to care if you destroy yourself by trying to deal with everything alone.'

Christine's voice was quiet and fierce, and though there was frustration there, there was *love* there too. It hit Mac hard, stunned him. He didn't know whether it was the fact that she'd managed to sum him up, flaws and darkest corners and all, so completely, or her utter lack of alarm at the news of his aphasia, or the way she'd said 'now *we* have Ella to consider'. _We._

'I don't deserve you,' he said.

Christine smiled.

'Yes, you do. You drive me crazy, Mac Taylor, but god, I love you. You're just lucky you're so damn cute. It makes all your maddening attributes acceptable.'

Mac smiled, and leaned in to kiss her, pouring all the emotions he couldn't put into words - gratitude, relief, love - into it. The kiss was soft and warm and long. They ended it slowly, reluctantly.

'I'm sorry,' Mac said.

Christine kissed him softly, quickly.

'You're forgiven. But I want you to talk to me about the aphasia, okay? And next time you need to speak to a doctor about it, I'm coming too.'

He nodded.

'And you have to tell Jo.'

Mac sighed.

'I know.'

'Will you do it tomorrow?'

'You're as bad as Ella,' Mac huffed, 'Yes, I'll tell her tomorrow.'

'Good. You should tell her about Ella too.'

'Ella?'

'Well, I'm assuming that you'll be looking into adopting her formally at some point down the line?'

Mac smiled. He _had_ been considering turning his situation with Ella into something more 'official' but he hadn't said anything about it to Christine.

'How did you know that?'

Christine smiled.

'Because I know you. I can see that you're falling in love with her,' Christine said, smiling, 'I can see it, Mac. She's a lovely kid, and I could see when she and Sam came to visit you in the hospital, and whenever you talked about her before all this happened, that you care for her. Now, when I see you with her, I can tell you're beginning to *love* her too, and that girl loves you, too Mac.'

'I'm not her dad,' he said.

'No, and she knows that. But you're the best thing in her life right now. She needs you, Mac. And I think you need her.'

'And you?'

'I love you, and I care for Ella. If she's going to be a permanent part of your life, I don't think it will take me long to love her, too. And you're going to need me around, Mac. You're going to be a wonderful father to Ella, but you're going to need help with certain things. Like when she gets her period, needs her first bra, wants to start wearing make up, starts dating boys. Oh, and you need to do something with this bachelor pad of yours.'

Mac winced at the idea of periods, bras, make up, and boys. He wondered when that would all start. Way too soon, whenever it was.

'What's wrong with my apartment?'

'Ella's not a girly girl, but still, this place is way too masculine. Your bathroom needs restocking with soft towels and cool shower gels and shampoo that isn't 'for men'. You need to get some cool toothpaste as well, not that boring stuff you use. Oh, and we're going to have to make that guest room of yours into a proper bedroom for Ella, with posters and a cd player and new sets of bedclothes - *not* that gray you have in there now , and beanbag chairs, and a shelf for her books and stuff, and a proper mirror, a closet for her clothes...oh, and we need to paint it a cool colour, too.'

For the second time in their conversation, Mac felt stunned. His head reeled at the seemingly endless catalogue of things he needed to sort out for Ella, some of which he'd thought of - like painting the room for her - and some which he hadn't.

'She needs different shampoo and shower gel?' he asked.

Christine rolled her eyes.

'Yes, Mac. Girls need that kind of stuff. Just be glad she's only ten. Because one day you're going to be finding bras and sanitary towels and...'

'Stop!' Mac said, 'Can we please just stick to all the basic stuff right now?'

Christine laughed.

'Okay, but I told you you're going to need me around.'

'At least now you can't make me get rid of the Reese's Puffs in my cupboard,' he said, 'Ella likes it, too.'

Christine, who hated the cereal, pulled a face.

'Hmmm, okay. But I'm still going to be feeding the two of you sometimes. You can't feed the girl on cereal and pizza and Chinese food all the time, Mac. She's not Don Flack.'

Mac laughed.

'Okay, okay. How about some of your shrimp diabolo? Ella had some when you made it the other night, and loved it.'

'She did?' Christine asked, obviously pleased.

Mac nodded.

'How could she *not* love your cooking?' he said.

Christine smiled, and kissed him again.

Mac kissed her back. He felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from him. He was still concerned about telling Jo and later the rest of the team about his aphasia, but the notion no longer seemed *quite* so terrifying and impossible. Whatever happened at work, he would have Christine, and Ella.

The next day.

After dropping Ella off at school the following morning, Mac went to work. He had paperwork to catch up on, and he had to check in with Adam and Sid on the progress of stuff on a couple of cases. It wasn't until around 1pm that he managed to catch a quiet moment. Danny and Lindsay were out at a scene with Don Flack, Hawkes was still on vacation, and Sid was over at the M.E's office, and Adam was working on some camera footage from a grocery store robbery and cursing at his computers. Mac spotted Jo coming down the hall and stopped her.

'Jo, can we talk for a minute in my office?'

'Of course,' she said.

She followed him into his office. He closed the door and gestured for her to sit.

'This must be important, if you're closing the door,' she said.

Mac nodded and sat opposite her.

'It is. You remember the day we went out to Sam's scene, and you asked...if something was up?'

'I do. I'd been meaning to chase you up about that.'

Mac sighed, heavily.

'There is something going on,' he said.

'Something connected to what happened seven months ago?' Jo asked.

Mac was not in the least surprised at Jo's perceptiveness.

'Yeah,' he said. He swallowed, took a breath.

'I've been having problems remembering...' he started, but then his cell phone rang.

He picked it up, expecting it to be Danny, Lindsay, or Don calling from the crime scene they were attending. When he saw the caller id flashing 'ELLA- SCHOOL' dread and concern filled him. He hit the answer button.

' This is Mac Taylor,' he said.

'Mr Taylor, this is Geraldine Vines, Ella's principal.'

Mac's breath caught in his throat and his heart froze in his chest as all kinds of horrible possibilities flew through his mind.

'Is Ella hurt?' he asked.

'No. She's sitting outside my office right now. She punched another girl at recess this morning, split her lip. She refuses to tell me why she did it. Given her circumstances, I'm not going to put this on her record, but I have suspended her for the rest of the day, so you need to come and collect her.'

'Of course,' Mac said.

He hung up and turned to Jo, who looked worried.

'Jo, I promise I _will_ tell you what's going on with me, but right now I have to...'

'Ella needs you,' Jo said, 'I get it. Go. We'll talk later.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

Mac drove to the school, a mix of anger and confusion boiling in him.

He parked outside and walked in, following signs to the principal's office. Sure enough, Ella was sat outside the door, arms folded, looking angry, and lonely.

'Ella, what happened?'

'Nothing. Leave me alone! It's my problem!'

Mac frowned.

'We *are* going to talk about this, young lady.'

'Yeah, whatever.' Ella said, rolling her eyes and slumping even lower in her chair, fierce green eyes glaring up at him.

After talking to the principal briefly, Mac stepped outside.

'We're going home,' he said.

'Fine!' Ella yelled, and stormed down the school hallway so fast Mac had to walk fast to keep up with her. Outside the school, she leaned against the car, arms folded, head down, waiting for him to unlock the doors. As soon as he had, she got in and slammed the door to the car so hard the whole vehicle shook.

'Hey, don't do that,' Mac said.

'You're not my dad! You don't get to tell me what to do! I don't get why you even _care_.'

'I'm your guardian, young lady. I certainly do get to tell you what to I do care. A lot.'

'Why don't you just leave me alone?' she yelled, then glared out of the window, ignoring him.

They drove in silence back to Mac's apartment. Ella clearly didn't want to talk. Mac could feel the anger radiating off her small, hunched form, and read the pain in every angle of her body. Despite her attitude, he sensed her anger wasn't really with him. He also knew that to push her to talk now would only make her all the angrier, and even more unwilling to talk to him. And her words about his not being her dad stung. They were true.

When they reached his apartment, Ella went straight to her room, slamming the door behind her. Mac stood in the hallway for a second, then went down the hall.

He knocked on her door.

'Ella?'

'GO AWAY!' she screamed, 'YOU'RE NOT MY DAD AND I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO ANYONE.'

Mac winced at the fury in her voice, the pure, painful rage.

'Ella, something's going on with you. We need to talk about it. I'll be waiting out here when you're ready to tell me what happened.'

'Why the hell do you care? You're not my dad!'

'I know that, but I love you, Ella, and I want to help you if you'll let me.' he said.

When he got no response, he sighed heavily and went into the living room. He sat on the couch and rubbed his forehead, feeling absolutely helpless. He'd expected some kind of acting out on Ella's part, given what she'd been through. He wondered if he'd made a mistake letting her go back to school so soon. He wondered what it had been that had driven her to hit the other girl, and to push him away like this when before she'd always confided in him. He understood her need to feel it was 'her' problem, but it hurt that she wouldn't let him in. He picked up his cell phone and dialed Jo.

'Danville,' she said.

'It's Mac,' he said, 'Ella's acting out, and I don't know what to do.'

'What happened?' Jo asked.

Mac told her.

'I thought we were doing okay. It's so unlike her to hit another kid. Sam was always telling me how she got into trouble at school, but it was never for anything like this. She's so angry, and she won't let me help her, and I don't know what to do. I feel so useless.'

'Just do what I told you to do before, Mac. Do your Mac Taylor thing. You've been where she is right now. You know what it's like to lose someone you love, and what that can do to you. Talk to her, Mac. Listen to her. That's what she needs.'

'What if she doesn't want to talk to me?'

'Just give her time,' Jo said, 'When she feels ready, she'll come to you, Mac. She's pushing you away right now for some reason, but she trusts you. She'll come to you when she's ready.'

'Okay. Thanks, Jo.'

Two hours later, Mac was making coffee in the kitchen.

He was suddenly aware of another presence in the room and turned. Ella was leaning in the doorway.

Not looking at him, she muttered,

'What's for dinner?'

'There's some of Christine's shrimp diabolo in the fridge if you want that.'

'I want ice cream.'

'No, not for dinner, Ella. After dinner, maybe.'

'But I want some _now_!'

'Tough. I'm not your dad, but even I know he wouldn't let you have ice cream for dinner, would he?'

Silence for a few seconds, and then a sigh which expressed absolute frustration with the adult world.

'No, he wouldn't.'

'So, shrimp diabolo and then ice cream?'

Another sigh.

'Fine. You win.'

Mac took the shrimp diabolo out of the fridge, and started heating it up. He could feel Ella's eyes on him.

'Can I help?' she said, eventually.

Mac recognized she was offering something of an olive branch, in her own way, and smiled.

'Sure, can you get some plates and cutlery?'

'Okay,'

Ella laid the table while Mac finished reheating the shrimp diabolo. As he put the food on their plates, Ella grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge. They sat down and ate in silence for a while.

Looking at Ella, Mac could see redness around her eyes - she'd clearly been crying. He winced at the automatic guilt that came with seeing her upset, wondering if it was somehow his fault.

'Ella, if I've done something to upset you, I'm sorry.'

Ella looked at him.

'It's not you,' she said, 'It's...it's just...' she paused, scowling in frustration at her inability to put a finger on what was bothering her, 'It's...I don't know...everything! Everything sucks!'

'Did something happen at school today that...sucked in particular?'

Ella shrugged.

'Something this other girl said or did that made you hit her? Because that's not like you, Ella. I don't understand why you got into this fight today.'

'Didn't you ask Mrs Vines that?'

'Yes, but she didn't know. Anyway, I don't want to know what Mrs Vines thinks about why you hit this other girl. I want you to tell me.'

'Because Jenny Jones is a stupid bitch,'

'Why?' Mac asked, ignoring Ella's language. He wasn't happy about it, but it was hardly what mattered right now.

'Because she said that you were my 'replacement dad' and only took me on because you felt sorry for me, just like my mom and dad did when they adopted me. And before that I had to have a session with the stupid guidance counselor woman.'

'Why is she stupid?' Mac asked.

''Cause she kept asking me 'how do you feel today, Ella?' and I told her 'I don't know'. and she just kept asking the same question over and over and I wanted to talk about my dad but all SHE wanted to talk about was his being...gone and what happened and how I feel about it. How does she THINK I feel? And she doesn't LISTEN to me like you do. Then I go out to recess, and that stupid Jenny starts in.'

'What made you most mad about what Jenny said?' Mac asked.

Ella shrugged and scowled. Her fists balled.

'I don't _know_,' she said, 'I guess maybe what she said about you being my replacement dad. Like I was just supposed to forget my dad and get a new one like you would with a pet or something.'

Mac nodded. He remembered all too well how well-meaning advice that he 'start dating again' after Claire died, had frustrated him, and more than that, how much it had _hurt_.

He looked into Ella's tear-filled eyes.

'Ella, I promise you, your dad could _never_ be replaced, by _anyone_. He's way too special for that. And I will never try to do that to you, okay?'

'You...really promise?' Ella asked.

'Yes,'

'Okay,' she said, 'I'm sorry I was mean to you before.'

'That's okay. Just please try not to push me away when you're hurting, okay? I did that after my wife died, and it makes things even worse. And what Jenny said *was* stupid, but people say stupid stuff all the time when this kind of thing happens. But that doesn't mean it was right to hit her.'

'I know,' Ella sighed. 'I hurt my hand, too.'

She showed Mac her right hand. Her knuckles were bruised and a little cut. Mac winced. He'd suffered more of those kind of injuries as a kid and an adult than he cared to think about, and while they were nothing serious as long as infection was prevented, they were certainly painful.

He took Ella's hand in his and gently ran his thumb over the hurt part of her hand.

'You hit her pretty hard, didn't you?'

'I guess,'

Despite himself, Mac felt a flicker of pride. Ella might be only ten, and a little small for her age, but she was tough.

'This is another reason you shouldn't hit people,' Mac said, 'as much as they may deserve it, you get hurt, too.'

'How many fights did _you_ get in when you were my age?' Ella asked, with a cheeky grin.

'Never you mind. I'll get you an ice pack for your hand, and swab out that little cut after dinner.'

'Thanks, Mac.'

'And you just stay away from this Jenny girl at school, okay? And if anyone says something stupid, try _not_ to hit them.'

'Can I kick them?' Ella asked.

Mac gave her a sharp look, then saw her mischievous grin. She was teasing him. He chuckled, and shook his head.

'No kicking, either. As for that guidance counsellor, I'll call Mrs Vines tomorrow and tell her you don't have to go anymore. ' he said.

'Really?' Ella looked surprised.

'Really,' Mac said. 'You will need to talk to someone professional about what happened and what's going on with you, but I'll find you someone better than this woman at your school, who's not so...'

'Stupid?' Ella asked.

Mac couldn't help a slight smile.

'Someone who is more what you need,' he said. 'And you know you can tell me anything, don't you?'

Ella nodded.

'I know that,' she said, seriously. Again, Mac was struck by her absolute trust in him.

'Good. Now let's finish up this meal and get to that ice cream, okay?'

Ella smiled.

'Okay,'

Later, after they'd finished dinner and had their ice cream, they were sat on the couch watching Spongebob. Mac sensed that something was still bothering Ella. She was quieter than usual, not quite as into the adventures of Spongebob, Patrick, and Squidward as she usually was. As an episode finished, Mac said,

'Is there something else upsetting you, Ella?'

Ella, leaning against him, mumbled something, her eyes fixed on the tv.

'What was that, honey?'

'I don't get why you would even *want* to keep me. I'm a bad kid,' she said, still staring at the tv screen, tears trickling slowly down her cheeks, determinedly not looking at him, as if scared of what she might see in his face.

Mac slipped his fingers underneath her chin and turned her face gently so she was looking up at him.

'Ella, what do you mean? You're not a bad kid.'

'Yes I am! Everyone around me dies. My birth parents are dead. My Mom died, and I couldn't stop it. My dad died, and...and...it was all _my fault_. If I hadn't asked for that stupid stuff from the store he wouldn't have gone out and he wouldn't have died! It was all my fault! I don't want_ you_ to die, too, Mac.'

Mac's heart broke at the hopeless kind of sadness and self-recrimination in her voice, partly because he understood her feelings so very well, especially the utter powerlessness and guilt of watching people you loved die around you.

'Ella, your dad's death is _not _your fault. It's the fault of the man in the other car, no one else. You're _not _a bad kid. You're smart and tough and funny and you have all the best qualities of both your parents. To be honest, I've been going crazy ever since your dad died thinking that _ I'm_ not good enough for _you_.'

'Really?' Ella looked surprised, as though the idea that *he* might feel inadequate had never occurred to her.

'Really.'

'So...you really do want me to live with you?'

'More than anything I've ever wanted before,' Mac said.

'And you won't change your mind? Even if I drive you crazy?'

'Never.' Mac said, cupping her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes.

'I swear to you that no matter what, I'll always be here for you, Ella. I might screw up sometimes, and you might too, but I'll still always be here. I'm not going anywhere.'

For the first time, that promise seemed enough. He might not be Sam, and he had no doubt he would make mistakes with Ella, and she with him, but somehow right now, that idea no longer seemed as terrifying as it once had. To see the relief and absolute trust that filled Ella's face before she snuggled back down against him was enough.

The next day.

Mac was wading through a seemingly endless list of very dull emails when Jo knocked on the door to his office. He gestured her in.

'I brought coffee,' she said.

Mac smiled.

'Thanks,' he said, gesturing for her to sit and grabbing a cup, 'I need some.'

'So, what was wrong with Ella last night?' Jo asked.

Mac told her, and Jo nodded.

'Poor kid. You handled it well, though. She back at school today?'

'Yes. Hopefully this Jenny kid will steer clear of Ella, and vice versa. As much as what Ella did was wrong, I can understand why she did it. People can say incredibly stupid things to you after you lose someone close,'

Jo heard the pain and the frustration in Mac's voice. She wondered how many stupid comments he'd heard after his wife died.

'So,' she said, 'Before you had to go and get Ella yesterday, you were about to tell me what's been going on with you since you got back to work?'

'I thought you might forget about that.' he said.

'No chance. Now, what is it, Mac?'

Mac steeled himself.

'I'm sorry, Jo,I know I should have told you this before now.'

'Mac, just tell me what's wrong. Please.' she said, gently.

And it all came out. He told Jo about the problems he'd been having, what his neurologist and Kevin had said, the exercises, his frustration. Once he'd started, even though part of him shuddered at revealing his weakness, he couldn't stop. Finally, he finished, and looked up at Jo.

'Mac, why the hell didn't you tell anyone?'

He sighed.

'Because it was _my _ problem. I was supposed to be able to deal with myself, or at least wait for it to go away. But it hasn't.'

'Mac, for a brilliant man, you can be incredibly dumb,' Jo said, 'I've been worried about you ever since I noticed you having problems with remembering words, and yes, I noticed before Adam did. We'll work through this, Mac.'

'What if we can't?'

'You've gotten your people through worse than this, Mac. Don's told me a little about the problems he had after his girlfriend died. He didn't say much, but he said that he damn near went over the edge, and that _you_ pulled him back. He said if it wasn't for you, he'd have gotten himself fired by now. And Danny told me how you helped him and made sure he kept his job when he got shot. He said the brass wanted to let him go because they didn't think he was up to the job physically or emotionally but that you fought for him. And it was _you_ who was there for him and fought for him when he was involved in that officer shooting last year. If you can get Don and Danny through stuff like that, you can get through this. We'll all make sure of it, Mac, Don and I especially.'

'And when the brass find out?'

Jo snorted.

'If they give you one iota of trouble, Don and I will deal with them.' Jo said. Mac managed a wry smile at the fierce, determined tone in Jo's voice. He felt a flash of warm gratitude at her simple acceptance of his problem, the way she hadn't made a huge deal out of it, but simply come up with possible solutions.

'I just feel so useless,' he said, 'I can't remember the most simple of things, things a two-year-old knows, things I *know* that I know. How can I do any of this - my job, looking after Ella, when I can't even remember basic stuff? You guys deserve better. Ella deserves better.'

'And there you go being an idiot again,' Jo said. 'Mac, you are the most brilliant investigator I've ever worked with. More than that, you're a good man. You take care of all of us. You're always the one who takes on all our problems and tries to make things better. Now it's time for _us_ to look out for _you_ for a change. As for Ella, you're the best possible thing that could happen to that little girl.'

'I'm just so worried I won't be able to be what she needs, that I'll let her down,' Mac said, 'and the aphasia just makes it all worse.'

'Mac, I'll be honest with you. As a parent myself, I can tell you that you are going to let her down without meaning to. But not in the way you're thinking. You're going to forget to buy her favourite ice cream at the grocery store. You're going to fight with her about boys and clothes and what time she's allowed out until. You might have to miss a few of her soccer games because of work, and she's going to be mad. But that girl isn't going to give a damn if you can't remember certain words sometimes. What she needs is someone to be there when she needs to talk, to comfort her when the first boy she likes disappoints her and tell her what a loser he is. She needs you to go to as many of her soccer games as you can and cheer her on, to take her out for pizza or hotdogs, to look after her when she gets sick. That child loves you, and needs you, Mac, and you need her. That's all that matters. You just have to learn not to be so hard on yourself all the time.'

'Thanks, Jo, I needed to hear that.' he said, gratefully. Her words, as someone who had kids, resonated with him and reassured him, and he knew that she, especially because of her own experiences with Ellie, understood what was going on in his head right now.

'You're welcome. You're going to be a wonderful father. Didn't I always tell you you should have kids, Mac? That girl's going to do you a lot of good.' Jo's smile was decidedly smug.

Mac scowled, but he wasn't really annoyed.

' You did,' he said 'And now you'll have someone to sympathize with and share in your misery once she hits her teen years,' Mac said, wryly.

'Well,' Jo's smug smile turned into an all out, cat-that-got-the-cream, grin 'there _is_ that.'


	8. Chapter 8 - Epilogue

Eight months later.

Mac's alarm clock went off. He reached out and hit the button to silence it.

'Morning,' Christine said next to him.

Mac turned over and kissed her lightly on the lips.

'Morning,' he said.

'Do you really have to work today?' she asked.

'Yeah, but just till this afternoon. Then I'm picking Ella up from school and we'll do some grocery shopping - we're out of ketchup _again_ - and then on the way home we'll swing by the restaurant and pick you up on the way to the dvd rental place.'

'Great,' Christine said, 'I really need a night off, it's been a long week.'

'Tell me about it,' Mac sighed - he'd had a long week himself, much of which had involved listening to Danny and Lindsay alternatively regaling him with their viewpoints in a fight they were having.

'I can cook tonight if you want,' Christine said.

Mac wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her again.

'Oh no you won't, it's your night off. We're ordering Chinese from that place Ella loves around the corner.'

'I seem to recall that _you_ were the one who introduced her to it,' Christine reminded him, 'what are you planning on ordering?'

'Ella wants the beef in black bean sauce. I think I'm going to have...that dish I love, the...chicken with the spicy stuff,'

Mac frowned in irritation as he tried to remember the name of the dish.

'Spicy orange chicken,' Christine supplied.

'Right,' he said, sighing.

'I'll make coffee and get started on breakfast,' Christine said.

'Okay,'. Mac was grateful for the way she didn't make a big deal out of his inability to remember the name of the food he planned to order, instead simply accepting it. Despite continuing with the exercises, and seeing his neurologist regularly, he was still having trouble remembering words. It frustrated him beyond belief, but neither Jo nor Christine or Ella would allow him to either get too down on himself about it, or to give up on the exercises when they frustrated him. Ella had rather firmly told him that if she didn't get to give up on her math homework, he didn't get to give up on _his_ 'homework' either.

Mac got up too and headed for the bathroom. Living with Christine and Ella, he'd quickly learned to get in and out of there as early and as quickly as he could.

Passing Ella's door he knocked.

'Time to get up, Ella. It's soccer practice today, so don't forget your stuff again, okay? Last time you brought it back to be washed you forgot it.'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm up already, and I have my soccer stuff. It was only the _one time_ that I forgot it!' she called back, her voice full of typical pre-teen annoyance with a nagging parent. Then she opened the door and grinned up at him, 'We're still having a couple of movies and Chinese food tonight, right? You, me, and Christine?'

'That's right. What kind of movies do you want?'

'Scary ones!'

'Hmmm, we'll have to see. Nothing too scary. Remember when you watched _The Blair Witch Project_ over at Stacie's house when I specifically told you _not_ to watch it?'

'Awwww, Mac! I was just ten then. I'm eleven now. That's *way* more grown up! And I won't be as scared if I watch it with you and Christine. I like scary movies!'

Mac grinned and ruffled her hair. She swatted at his hand in mild annoyance.

'Okay then,' he said, 'just nothing _too_ scary, okay? Scary enough to make you jump, but not the kind that gives you nightmares.'

'Yesssssssss!' Ella said, pumping both fists in the air, 'I love you, Mac.' she added, hugging him.

'Love you too, kid,' Mac said, hugging her back.

Ella headed for the kitchen, following the scent of frying bacon. Mac continued to head for the bathroom. He gave himself a second to take in the room. The shower was stocked with various shampoos and conditioners that Ella and Christine used. There was a rubber duck on the side of the bath, along with brightly coloured shower gels and tubs of various moisturizers. Ella's Spongebob towel lay abandoned on the floor by the tub. Mac sighed and picked it up, draping it over the towel rack. As he headed for the sink, he stepped on something soft. He looked down, and picked the item up.

Sticking his head out the door, he called,

'Ella?'

'Yeah?' she called from the kitchen.

'What's the name of the orange Uglydoll?'

'Which orange one?'

'It has an apron on.'

'Oh, that's Wage. And 'it's' a _'he_'.'

'And where is 'he'?' Mac asked.

Ella appeared in the hallway.

'I dunno, why?'

Mac held out the Uglydoll.

'Why do these creatures keep migrating into the bathroom?' he asked, patiently.

'Ummm...'cause they want to be clean?'

'Ha ha, very funny, young lady. Just keep an eye on them, okay? I nearly squished this poor guy to death. Then I'd have to set up a whole crime scene, and arrest myself for manslaughter, and it's not even 10am.'

Ella took the little critter from him and giggled.

'You're silly, Mac.'

'And you're messy. Save me some of that bacon, will you?'

'Okay,'

Ella headed back to the kitchen.

Mac went back into the bathroom and managed to find his razor and gel among the mess of yet more of Christine and Ella's assorted bathroom accessories. He frowned in mild irritation at finding one of Ella's t-shirts on the floor underneath the sink that looked like it had been there for a while, and was covered in dirt and grass stains.

He shook his head in amusement. The bathroom looked like it had been hit by a small bomb. But he had to admit, he kind of liked the mess.

That afternoon.

'Mac, are you leaving soon?' Jo asked as he stepped out of his office.

'Yes. I'm just heading out now,'

'So how're things going with you and Ella?' Jo asked.

'Good,' he said. 'The adoption process is nearly done, it's just more of that endless paperwork and a few final hoops for us to jump through. I've had a few more reports from her school about her acting out, answering back, losing her temper with other kids. She still refuses to go anywhere near the guidance counselor there, but I found her a child psychologist who she actually likes and she sees her once every couple weeks. It's helping, I think. We had a fight earlier this week over what exact time her curfew should be, but I managed to negotiate an agreement. It was harder than any negotiation I've ever had with the brass, I'll tell you that. That girl is the most stubborn person I've ever met.'

Jo laughed out loud, and just grinned at him.

'Yeah, yeah, I know I'm stubborn too,' he growled, only mildly annoyed.

'You two go together perfectly,' Jo said, 'That girl's been really good for you Mac. I haven't seen you like this since...well, ever. I mean, after you met Christine, you were happy, but now you're even happier and much more chilled than you were before. You even took a whole afternoon off last week to spend with Ella. Adam couldn't believe it when I told him you'd left early.'

Mac smiled. He _was_ happy, happier than he'd ever thought he could be.

'So are you having a cosy night in with Christine and Ella tonight?' Jo asked.

'Yeah,' Mac said, 'We're getting Chinese food and watching scary movies. Ones that _I_ will have the final say and approval on.'

Jo smiled.

'Not _Blair Witch _then?'

Mac grimaced.

'No. I specifically told her she could _not_ see that movie, and she went right ahead and talked Stacie into 'borrowing' it from Stacie's older brother so they could watch it together when they had a sleepover .'

Jo chuckled.

'My Ellie's done the exact same thing, only with her it was _Paranormal Activity._ But come on, Mac, when you were around their age, what would you have done if your folks specifically told you, little Mac Taylor, to not watch a certain film?'

Mac smiled slightly.

'Okay, I'd have watched it. You've made your point.'

Jo just grinned at him.

'So where are you heading now?

'To get Ella from school. Then we're going grocery shopping because we're low on food again and we've been living on stuff Christine brings us from the restaurant for about a week. I swear, Ella eats almost as much as Don does, and she's not even half his size.'

'Ha!' Jo said, snorting, 'If you think Ella's bad, try having a college-age _boy_ in your house. Tyler alone is like two of Don appetite-wise. And Ellie eats almost as much.'

'Hmm, wonder where they get _that_ from?' Mac said.

Jo punched him lightly on the arm.

'Have fun, Mac. See you tomorrow.'

They parted, Jo heading off to find Adam for something on a case, and Mac heading for the parking lot.

On the television screen, the ghost of a long-dead woman loomed up from nowhere, bony, dead-white hands reaching out, a macabre grin on her skeletal face which was half hidden beneath a black veil.

'AGGGGGGGGGGGH!' screamed Ella, jumping so violently that popcorn spilled all over her and Mac. She clung to him, her eyes glued to the screen. On Mac's other side, at the same time that Ella had screamed, Christine jumped too, and her hand tightened around Mac's. Brushing popcorn off his lap onto the floor, Mac wrapped his arm tighter around Ella, and slipped his other arm around Christine, as together they watched the movie's teenage protagonist keep searching through the creepy old house. Mac felt a sense of complete and simple _rightness _come over him. When Claire had died, he thought he'd never fall in love again, let alone have any kind of a real family that included kids. But here he was, watching a movie with the woman he loved and his adopted daughter. The apartment was a bit of a mess, especially now with half a bowl of popcorn on the floor. But for the first time in years, it wasn't just an empty space he came back to only when he had to, a place that only ever served to remind him of how alone he was. Now it was a place he looked forward to returning to. It was a home. He had a second chance at everything he'd never thought possible.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

**Well, guys, that's it for this one. I just want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, your support has meant a lot and I really do appreciate you taking the time to review. I'm so glad you enjoyed it, I certainly greatly enjoyed writing it! And I'm hoping to write some Mac and Ella one shots in the future.**

**Just a final disclaimer, Uglydolls, Spongebob and any books/films mentioned belong to their creators. All NY characters belong to the writers of the show. Ella, however, is mine. : ) Oh, and the film they watch at the end isn't (as far as I'm aware) a real film, just one I made up from having watched countless scary/haunted house films. **


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